#“oh you look so beautiful just like your mother” i hope you DIE lol !!! the fact that my conception of beauty was shaped by her

[ef-1]

girlhood

[muiitoloko]

Hi! I've been devouring your alan fics so much! They're so so so good! Do you do requests? If so I'm kinda craving for some platonic love 🫶. Is it alright to have an Eli x daughter reader? I don't have a specific plot in mind. I just want some fluff but to make it better add some angst.

But if you don't do requests, it's fine. Just ignore this lol. Just really love how you write!!

Title: Become a great artist.

Summary: He wanted you to become a great artist, so you did. But Eli realizes that you have always been a great artist.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst, Angst! Neglectful father, criticism, mention of rape, kidnapping, suicide, death.

Author's Notes: Thank you for reaching out and enjoying my stories. I have to admit, I got a bit carried away with this one. What started as an attempt to create something cute took an unexpected turn into anguish, and I found myself writing through tears. If this isn't what you were hoping for and you prefer something cute, just let me know, and I promise I'll whip up something adorable for you.

First, Second and Third part here.

As the birthday celebration for your father, Eli, continued, you couldn't wait to unveil the gift you had painstakingly crafted for him. The table was already adorned with a collection of thoughtful presents, but yours was the final touch to the evening.

With a hopeful smile, you presented the oil painting you had spent countless hours creating. The canvas depicted a striking likeness of your father, Eli, capturing his essence in vibrant colors and intricate details.

But as Eli glanced at the painting, his expression remained unchanged, his lack of enthusiasm palpable. You felt a pang of disappointment as you looked at him expectantly, hoping for a more heartfelt reaction.

However, your mother, Sarah, sitting beside Eli, immediately took the painting into her hands, her eyes lighting up with admiration. "Oh, darling, this is absolutely beautiful!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You're so talented!"

Your brother, Barkley, chimed in with his own praise, echoing your mother's sentiments. But despite their encouraging words, you couldn't shake the feeling of deflation at Eli's lackluster response.

As the dinner progressed, Eli seemed content to focus on his meal and his glass of wine, his attention drifting away from the festivities. You tried to console yourself with the thought that your father was simply not one to show emotions openly, but it still stung to see him so disinterested in your gift.

As Sarah noticed your hopeful expression towards Eli, she intervened with a comment meant to uplift your spirits. "You know, darling," she said, her voice warm and encouraging, "you have such a talent for art. You could be a great artist, like Van Gogh."

But Eli's response was not what you had expected. He scoffed dismissively, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Van Gogh? Please. The man cut off his own ear and ended up killing himself," he remarked, his words laced with derision. "Unless you're planning on following in his footsteps, I highly doubt you'll ever become a great artist. You know, the painter has to die for his works to become famous; that's how I see it, at least."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his cutting remark, your heart sinking at the realization that your father saw little value in your passion and talents. Hanging your head in disappointment, you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.

Sarah shot Eli a reproachful glance, her eyes flashing with indignation at his insensitive remark. "Eli, that's enough," she scolded, her voice firm and resolute. "There's no need to be so cruel."

But Eli remained indifferent to his wife's reproach, his attention already drifting back to his meal. Ignoring Sarah's scolding, he continued to sip his wine, his disinterest in your feelings painfully evident.

Forced to put on a brave face, you mustered a weak smile and nodded in response to your mom's apology. "It's okay, Mom," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

But inside, your heart ached with the weight of Eli's disappointment and disapproval. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the dinner continued, you tried to push aside your hurt feelings and focus on enjoying the rest of the evening. But deep down, you couldn't shake the sense of inadequacy that your father's words had stirred within you, a painful reminder of your status as the perpetual disappointment in his eyes. But you forced a smile onto your face, and you were happy. After all, it was a night to celebrate. It was your father's birthday, and everyone should be happy. You turned to your brother and started an animated conversation with him, talking about everything and nothing.

And so, the night passed until you and your brother said goodbye and prepared to leave. However, as you made your way to your car, you realized that you couldn't find your keys in your pocket. It suddenly dawned on you that you had forgotten them at your parents' house. As you approached your parents' house to retrieve the forgotten car key, you hesitated for a moment outside the door, the voices of your parents drifting through the air. Initially, you thought they were just chatting or perhaps discussing plans for the next day, but as you listened more closely, the tone of their conversation sent shivers down your spine.

"...at least pretend to be happy about her gift," Sarah's voice, tinged with frustration, reached your ears first.

Eli's response was immediate, his tone dismissive and biting. "Why should I pretend, Sarah? It's just another one of her silly paintings. If she wants to waste her time on that nonsense, fine. But don't expect me to pretend it's anything more than that."

You felt a pang of hurt at your dad's words, his lack of appreciation for your efforts cutting deeper than you cared to admit. As Sarah attempted to defend your gift, Eli's retort struck you like a physical blow.

"And what was that comment about having to kill herself to be a great artist? Honestly, Eli, can't you see how hurtful that is?" Sarah's voice, filled with exasperation and sadness, echoed your own feelings of disappointment.

Eli rolled his eyes, his impatience evident in his voice. "Oh, please. I was just being realistic. She's not going to make it as an artist, no matter how much you coddle her. And besides, if she's dumb enough to think her paintings will make her a great artist, then maybe she deserves a reality check."

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the weight of your dad's words settled heavily on your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to please him, it seemed that nothing you did would ever be enough to earn his approval.

As the argument between your parents reached its peak, you forced yourself to open the door and step inside, your head hung low as you made your way to the counter where you had left your car key. Your parents fell silent as they watched you, their expressions filled with surprise and concern.

Picking up the key with trembling hands, you turned to face them, your voice barely above a whisper as you addressed them. "I forgot my key. I'll just...I'll see you later," you mumbled, your heart heavy with disappointment as you turned and made your way back outside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling of despair that settled over you like a dark cloud. Despite your best efforts to please your father, it seemed that you would forever be a disappointment in his eyes. And as you drove away from your parents' house, tears streaming down your cheeks, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever be able to escape the shadow of your dad's disapproval.

As you drove home, your vision blurred by tears, you couldn't shake the weight of your father's harsh words. Each syllable echoed in your mind like a cruel refrain, cutting deeper than any knife ever could. The familiar scent of paint greeted you as you entered your apartment, your sanctuary, your studio. But instead of finding solace in the comforting aroma, it only served to remind you of your own inadequacy in your father's eyes.

With trembling hands, you made your way through the cluttered space, your eyes falling on the canvases scattered around the room. Each painting, a testament to your passion and talent, now felt like a mockery of your futile efforts to win your father's approval.

In a moment of overwhelming despair, you lashed out, sweeping your arm across the nearest table, sending brushes, paints, and canvases crashing to the floor in a cacophony of destruction. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed through the room, matching the turmoil raging within your own heart.

As you stood amidst the wreckage, tears streaming down your cheeks, you felt a sense of catharsis wash over you. With each shattered piece of paintbrush and torn canvas, you released a fragment of the pain and frustration that had been building inside you for so long.

But even as you succumbed to the chaos of your emotions, a flicker of determination stirred within you. You knew that there was only one thing that could ease the ache in your heart, only one outlet for the storm of emotions raging within you: painting.

With renewed purpose, you retrieved a fresh canvas and a palette of vibrant colors, your hands moving with a sense of urgency born from desperation. With each brushstroke, you poured your heart and soul onto the canvas, channeling your pain and anguish into a whirlwind of color and emotion.

Hours passed in a blur as you painted through the night, your movements fluid and instinctual, driven by a need to escape the suffocating weight of your father's disapproval. Each stroke of the brush was a release, a cathartic expression of the turmoil raging within you.

You painted sadness, despair, and chaos, each image a reflection of the tumultuous storm that raged within your own soul. But amidst the darkness, there was also beauty, a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of pain and uncertainty.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, you stepped back to admire your work, the exhaustion of the night weighing heavily on your shoulders. But despite the weariness that threatened to consume you, there was also a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of the emotions that had driven you to create.

With a heavy heart and aching limbs, you collapsed onto the floor beside your paintings, the tears finally drying on your cheeks as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep. And as you drifted off into the realm of dreams, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had your art, you would always find a way to weather the storm.

Days later, despite the emotional turmoil you had experienced, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar pattern of seeking your father's approval. It was a habit ingrained deeply within you, a longing to win even a sliver of recognition from a man who seemed perpetually out of reach.

But then, news came in a surprising package: your father, Eli, had won the Nobel Prize. The announcement came through your mother, Sarah, who couldn't contain her excitement as she relayed the incredible news to you and your brother, Barkley.

Filled with a mix of disbelief and pride, you made a point to visit your parents' house to congratulate your father in person. As you entered the room, Eli's face lit up with a rare smile at the sight of you, a genuine warmth in his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time.

"Congratulations, Dad!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement as you rushed forward to embrace him. Your dad returned the hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising tenderness, a gesture that felt unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eli said, his voice tinged with pride as he pulled away to look at you. "I couldn't have done it without the support of my family."

You beamed at his words, a surge of happiness flooding through you at the rare display of affection from your father. In that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of the bond that had been strained for so long.

As the evening unfolded, you found yourself sharing a moment of camaraderie with your father, a sense of connection that had eluded you for years. You laughed together, reminisced about old memories, and even shared a toast to celebrate your father's incredible achievement.

And amidst the laughter and joy, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to share this moment with your father. Despite the years of disappointment and frustration, you cherished this fleeting glimpse of the man behind the facade of arrogance and indifference.

As the night came to an end, and the celebrations had taken their toll, you found yourself in a state of inebriation that made driving impossible. Eli, being the responsible parent, decided to take you home. However, getting you into the car turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

You were feeling particularly stubborn and silly, bouncing around the living room with an air of joviality. "I'm the Nobel Prize winner's daughter!" you exclaimed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you twirled around the room. "And my father is a geniuuus" you sang, your voice filled with laughter.

Eli couldn't help but suppress a smile at your antics, his eyes rolling with amusement as he watched you dance around the room. But when Sarah voiced her concerns and urged you to be careful, Eli knew it was time to intervene.

With a gentle sigh, he made his way over to you, his arms outstretched in a gesture of patience and understanding. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with affection as he reached out to scoop you up in his arms. "It's time to go home."

You giggled uncontrollably as Eli lifted you off the ground, your arms wrapping around his neck in a playful embrace. "But Daaaad!" you protested, your words slurring slightly with intoxication. "Can't we stop by McDonald's?"

Eli chuckled softly at your request, shaking his head in amusement as he made his way towards the door. "Maybe next time, sweetheart," he replied, his tone gentle yet firm as he carried you towards the waiting car.

As you waved goodbye to your mother over your father's shoulder, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over you, despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses. And as your dad carefully buckled you into the car, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the rare moment of connection shared between father and daughter, even in the midst of your drunken antics.

As Eli drove to your apartment, he couldn't help but suppress a chuckle at your off-key singing, the melody of your voice filling the car with a sense of lightheartedness amidst the chaos of the night. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced at you, his daughter, swaying in the passenger seat with a carefree grin on your face.

Ignoring your playful antics, Eli focused on the road ahead, navigating the familiar streets with practiced ease. But despite his outward composure, there was a sense of relief in his heart as he guided the car towards your apartment, knowing that he had managed to get you home safely despite the challenges of the evening.

As the two of you arrived at your apartment building, Eli turned to you with a concerned expression, his brow furrowed with worry. "Do you think you'll be able to make it up to your apartment on your own?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern.

You nodded in response, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you reassured him. "Don't worry, Dad, I'll be fine," you slurred slightly, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in your system. "Thank you for getting me home."

Eli softened at your words, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he reached out to gently pat your hand. "I'm always worried about your safety, sweetheart," he admitted, his voice quiet and sincere. "Just promise me you'll take a shower and get some rest, okay?"

You nodded in agreement, your head bobbing slightly as you struggled to maintain your balance. "I promise, Dad," you replied, your words muffled by a yawn as exhaustion began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

With a gentle smile, Eli helped you out of the car and escorted you to the entrance of the building, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he made sure you would enter safely. "Take care, sweetheart," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of fatherly affection. "I'll see you tomorrow."

You waved goodbye to your father, a playful grin spreading across your face as you stumbled towards the entrance of the building. "I'll paint a picture of you with your Nobel Prize!" you called out, your words slurred but filled with determination.

Eli rolled his eyes at your drunken proclamation, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "Don't waste your time on that," he replied, his tone teasing yet affectionate. "Just focus on getting some rest."

As you stumbled through the doorway and disappeared from sight, Eli stayed parked outside the building, his gaze lingering on the entrance with a sense of lingering concern. Despite his dismissive words, there was a part of him that couldn't help but worry about you, his daughter, stumbling through the darkness alone.

He knew he was tough on you sometimes, but he just wanted you to be better, to have the best, and he knew his silly paintings wouldn't give him that.

With a heavy sigh, he finally pulled away from the curb and began the journey back home, the events of the evening swirling through his mind as he navigated the empty streets. And as he drove through the quiet night, a sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that despite the challenges and complexities of their relationship, he would always be there to watch over you, his beloved daughter.

Meanwhile, you went up to your apartment, fumbling a little with your keys before getting in, falling straight onto the couch tiredly. Despite the alcohol-induced haze clouding your mind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and warmth lingering within you. The evening spent with your father, Eli, had been unexpectedly pleasant, filled with laughter and genuine moments of connection that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As you settled onto the couch, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind, savoring each precious memory like a cherished treasure. Despite Eli's usual indifference and tendency to dismiss your passions, you had managed to share a moment of genuine camaraderie with him, a glimmer of the father-daughter bond that had been strained for so long.

In that moment, you felt a surge of love and gratitude towards Eli, a flicker of hope that perhaps, despite his flaws and shortcomings, he did care about you in his own way. You drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face, the warmth of the evening wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

But days later, your sense of security and reassurance would be shattered in an instant, replaced by a chilling realization that would rock you to your core. Bound and gagged, staring into the face of your kidnapper, you felt a sense of disbelief and terror wash over you as they dialed your parents' number, putting the call on speaker for you to hear.

As the voice of your father, Eli, echoed through the room, you held your breath, desperately hoping for a glimmer of compassion or concern in his words. But what you heard instead sent a shockwave of pain ripping through your chest, leaving you reeling in disbelief and agony.

"I'm not giving you two million dollars for her," Eli's voice, cold and dismissive, cut through the silence like a knife. "She's not worth that much."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, crushing any lingering hope or illusion you had held onto about your father's love and affection. In that moment, you realized with devastating clarity that Eli's indifference towards you ran deeper than you had ever imagined, his actions speaking volumes about the true extent of his disregard for your well-being.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled against the bonds that held you captive, the weight of Eli's betrayal bearing down on you like a heavy burden. How could he abandon you like this, in your darkest hour of need? How could he place a price tag on your life, as if you were nothing more than a disposable commodity?

As the reality of your situation sank in, you felt a sense of despair and hopelessness wash over you, threatening to consume you whole. And in that moment of darkness, the flicker of love and gratitude you had felt towards Eli was extinguished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment.

"I'm not joking," the kidnapper insisted, his tone cold and merciless. "I want two million dollars, and I want it now. If you don't pay up, she'll suffer the consequences."

How could your father refuse to pay for your freedom? The realization that he considered you unworthy of such a sum was like a dagger to your chest, leaving you gasping for air as you struggled to comprehend his callous indifference.

Meanwhile, in his hotel room in Stockholm, Eli ended the call with a dismissive flick of his wrist, his mind already moving on to other matters. When Sarah questioned him about the call, he brushed it off with a casual shrug, dismissing it as unimportant.

"No one important," he replied, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Just some prank caller trying to get a rise out of me."

But little did Eli know, as he lounged in his luxurious surroundings, that his daughter's life hung in the balance, her fate at the mercy of a ruthless kidnapper who saw her as nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game.

Back in the dimly lit room where you were held captive, the kidnapper crouched in front of you, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he pondered his next move. The prospect of not receiving the ransom he had demanded left him feeling conflicted, unsure of what to do with you now that his plans had been thwarted.

"What am I supposed to do with you now?" the kidnapper muttered, taking the gag off of you, his voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. "If your daddy won't pay, then what's the point of keeping you around?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words, fear and panic gripping you in their icy embrace. The thought of what he might do to you now, with no hope of rescue in sight, sent shivers down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to keep your composure.

But your terror only intensified as you saw the hungry look in the kidnapper's eyes, a predatory gleam that sent a chill down your spine. You knew what he was thinking, could see the lust and desire written plainly on his face, and the realization filled you with a sense of helpless dread.

"No, please," you begged, your voice trembling with fear as you pleaded with him. "Don't do this. Please, just let me go."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the kidnapper's gaze lingered hungrily on you, his lips curling into a sinister smile that sent a shiver of revulsion down your spine. In that moment, you knew with chilling certainty that your fate was sealed, that there would be no rescue, no salvation from the horrors that awaited you.

Desperate and terrified, you called out for your father, Eli, your voice cracking with anguish as you begged him to intervene, to save you from the nightmare unfolding before your eyes. But deep down, you knew that he would never come to your rescue, just as he had never come to your aid on that fateful day when you first learned to ride a bike, falling and crying out for him, only to be met with silence and indifference.

And as you lay in the hospital bed, staring at the blank white ceiling above you, memories of your father flood your mind like a torrential downpour. You can't help but think back to that day when you were just a child, learning to ride a bike for the first time. You remember the excitement in your heart as you pedaled furiously down the street, the wind rushing through your hair as you gained speed.

But then, disaster struck, and you lost your balance, tumbling to the ground in a heap of scraped knees and tears. Through the blur of pain and disappointment, you cried out for your father, hoping for his comforting embrace to soothe your wounded pride. But he was nowhere to be found, lost in his own world of ambitions and achievements, too preoccupied to spare a moment for his injured child.

That day was just one of many in a long list of your father's neglectful moments, a pattern of behavior that had shaped your relationship with him for as long as you could remember. From missed recitals to forgotten birthdays, Eli's indifference had left an indelible mark on your psyche, a wound that festered with each passing disappointment.

And today was just one more addition to that list, a stark reminder of your father's priorities and his lack of concern for anything or anyone outside of his own ambitions. As you lay in the hospital bed, grappling with the aftermath of your ordeal, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you, a bitter acceptance of the fact that your father would never change.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital room, your brother Barkley paces back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he anxiously dials your parents' number. After several rings, his father Eli finally answers, his voice tinged with annoyance as he questions Barkley's reason for calling.

"What is it, Barkley?" Eli snaps, his tone curt and dismissive as he brushes off his son's attempt to interrupt his celebration. "I'm in the middle of something important. This better be worth disturbing me."

Barkley takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that he knows is about to unfold. "Dad, it's about [Your Name]," he says, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "She's in the hospital."

Eli's response was immediate, his tone shifting from annoyance to genuine concern as he pressed Barkley for more information. "What do you mean she's in the hospital?" he demanded, his voice tinged with panic. "Is she okay? Explain this properly."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Barkley relayed the details of the situation as best as he could. "She was found abandoned in a dirty alley," he explained, his voice trembling with emotion. "Some people called 911, and she was taken to the hospital. They tried to call you and Mom, but you didn't answer, so they called me."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line as Eli processed the gravity of the situation. Despite his usual self-centered demeanor, a flicker of concern and fear crept into his voice as he responded. "Is she okay? What happened to her?"

Barkley hesitates for a moment before delivering the next piece of devastating information. "The doctor said she was raped and assaulted," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They found evidence of trauma...down there."

Eli's breath caught in his throat as he struggled to process the horrifying news. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "Is she...is she conscious? Can she talk?"

Barkley's heart aches as he shakes his head, the weight of the situation bearing down on him like a leaden weight. "No, she's not talking to anyone," he replies, his voice choked with tears. "She's just...staring into space."

Eli's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to comprehend the extent of his daughter's suffering. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said she's in shock," Barkley explains, his words coming out in a rush. "They're doing everything they can for her, but...but we need to be there, Dad. She needs us."

Tears welled up in Eli's eyes as he listened to his son's words, the weight of his daughter's suffering bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm coming," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Tell her...tell her I'm coming to her. I'll be there soon."

As Barkley looked out the window, his heart sank at the sight of you lying motionless in the hospital bed. He felt a surge of helplessness wash over him as he listened to your father's voice crackle over the phone, his words filled with a mixture of concern and desperation.

"Dad, I don't know what to do," Barkley confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's not responding, she's just...staring into space."

But before he could say anything else, Eli's voice cut through the air, his tone strained with worry. "She'll be fine, Barkley. She has to be," he insisted, but Barkley could hear the uncertainty in his father's voice, the underlying fear that threatened to consume him.

Barkley nodded weakly, his own doubts and fears swirling inside him as he struggled to find the strength to comfort his sister. "I know, Dad. I just...I wish there was more I could do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eli fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air between them. "Just be there for her, Barkley. That's all we can do," he said finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

As the call ended and the limo sped towards the nearest airport, Sarah clung to Eli's side, her own worry etched across her face. "Is she going to be okay?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Eli wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close in a comforting embrace. "She'll be fine, Sarah. She has to be," he repeated, but his words sounded hollow even to his own ears, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience.

Meanwhile, in the hospital room in California, Barkley walked in and approached your bedside, his heart heavy with worry. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as he tried to find the right words to say.

"I talked to Mom and Dad," he began softly, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Dad's coming, you know. He'll be here soon."

But you remained silent, your gaze fixed on nothing as you lay there unmoving. Barkley felt a pang of sadness in his chest at your lack of response, the weight of your suffering bearing down on him like a heavy burden.

"I know how much you love Dad," Barkley continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "Maybe when he gets here, you'll snap out of this. Maybe you'll come back to us."

But as he spoke, Barkley couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut, the fear that you might never be the same again. And as he sat there holding your hand, surrounded by the sterile scent of the hospital room, he prayed silently for a miracle to bring you back to them.

But you remained silent, your usually vibrant personality seemingly extinguished by the traumatic events you had endured. Barkley had never seen you so quiet; you were always the talker, the light of the family, bringing laughter and joy wherever you went. But now, the silence that surrounded you felt suffocating, like a heavy blanket weighing down on their already burdened hearts.

Days passed, and Barkley's fears began to materialize. Despite being released from the hospital, you remained distant and cold, your eyes hollow and devoid of the spark that once lit up your face. The only time you opened your mouth was to recount the harrowing details of your kidnapping and assault to the police at the hospital. After that, you retreated into yourself, shutting out the world and refusing to engage with anyone, not even your father, who had always seemed to be the center of your world.

"Barkley, I don't know what to do," Sarah confided in him one evening, her voice trembling with worry. "She won't talk to me, she won't talk to Eli...I'm afraid she's slipping away from us."

Barkley's heart ached at the pain in his mother's voice, his own sense of helplessness mirrored in her eyes. "I know, Mom. I'm worried too," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Together, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the enormity of the situation. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience; if only he had been able to protect you, to prevent this tragedy from befalling you. But deep down, he knew that no amount of regret could change what had happened.

As days turned into weeks, Barkley watched you from a distance, his heart heavy with worry and guilt. You had retreated into yourself, isolating yourself in your apartment and shutting out the world. Barkley couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness as he watched you paint, your once vibrant and colorful creations now replaced by somber and melancholic images.

He tried to talk to you, to break through the wall of silence that surrounded you, but you ignored his every attempt. It pained him to see you like this, lost in your own despair, but he didn't know what else to do.

One evening, as Barkley once again attempted to reach out to you, you brushed him off without a word, your silence speaking volumes. Defeated, Barkley turned and walked away, his heart heavy with disappointment.

But Barkley had a plan, a desperate bid to escape the suffocating weight of his guilt and the toxic environment that surrounded him. With your mother's help, he concocted a scheme to steal money from your father, Eli, and leave town for good.

Together, they managed to steal two million dollars from Eli’s accounts—enough to start a new life, far from the pain and suffering that consumed his family. They assured you that you would be fine, asking if you wanted to go with them, but your silence was answer enough.

And so, one fateful night, Barkley and your mother disappeared into the night, leaving you behind in your empty apartment, alone with your thoughts and your paintings.

Meanwhile, in his luxurious home, Eli wasted away, drowning his sorrows in alcohol as he wallowed in self-pity and regret. He had lost everything – his money, his wife, and now his son. But he still had you, his daughter, his beautiful daughter whom he had failed to protect.

Eli's cell phone rang on the coffee table in the dimly lit living room, breaking the silence that had enveloped the house for weeks. He glanced at the caller ID but didn't recognize the number, yet he answered it eagerly, hoping for some sign of life amidst the desolation.

"Hello?" Eli's voice trembled with anticipation as he held the phone to his ear.

"Dad?" Your voice, soft and distant, echoed through the line, sending a surge of relief and concern coursing through Eli's veins. He hadn't heard your voice in weeks, and the sound of it now filled him with a mixture of joy and apprehension.

"Is that you, sweetheart?" Eli's heart raced as he waited for your response, his mind racing with a thousand questions.

But before he could say anything else, you interrupted him, your voice carrying a weight that chilled him to the bone. "You were right, Dad," you said, your words hanging heavy in the air. "The painter has to die for his works to become famous."

Eli froze, the blood draining from his face as he struggled to comprehend the meaning behind your words. His mind raced back to your paintings, the somber and melancholic images that had replaced the vibrant and colorful creations you had once produced. Was this what you had meant?

"What do you mean, sweetheart? Where are you?" he questioned, his voice laced with concern and dread.

You continued speaking, your voice hollow and distant. "Because people like it, right? People like tragic things, sad things," you said, your words echoing with a disturbing clarity.

Eli's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. "No, no, my dear, please don't do anything rash," he pleaded, his voice tinged with panic. "Tell me where you are. I'll come to you right away."

But you remained resolute, your mind seemingly made up. "I'm on a bridge," you replied calmly. "I'm going to jump, father. I'm going to become a great artist like Van Gogh."

Eli's hands shook as he held the phone tightly to his ear, the weight of your words crushing him with a suffocating sense of helplessness. "No, please, don't do this," he begged, his voice choked with tears. "I'll do anything, just please come back to me."

Eli's heart sank as he listened to your unsettling silence, his sense of guilt and regret weighing him down. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I haven't been there for you like I should have," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But please, don't do this. I'm coming to you right now. Just stay still, okay? Don't move."

But you interrupted him, your voice cutting through the air with a bitter edge. "You never came to my aid when I needed you, Dad. You never did," you said, your words laced with disappointment and resentment.

Eli's chest tightened at your accusation, the weight of his failures as a father bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I know, and I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I've been a shitty father, and I regret it every day."

But you remained steadfast, your resolve unyielding as you spoke once more. "The key to my apartment is under the rug," you said calmly, your voice cutting through the chaos of the moment. "My paintings...put them up for auction. Maybe then you can recover the money Barkley and Mom stole."

Eli tried to protest, to argue that the money didn't matter in comparison to the value of your life, but you silenced him with a swift motion, sliding your cell phone and tossing it off the bridge, watching it disappear into the depths below.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, your mind set on your decision. "Become a great artist," you whispered to yourself before taking the leap, the rush of wind drowning out the sounds of the world around you.

As you plummeted towards the water below, a crowd of onlookers gathered on the bridge, their smartphones held high as they captured the moment for posterity. But you paid them no mind, your focus solely on the journey ahead, whatever it may bring.

A month had passed since the tragic day you took your leap from the bridge, and Eli found himself enveloped in a fog of despair. Despite his best efforts, there was still no sign of your body, no closure to the nightmare that had consumed their lives. The newspapers relentlessly replayed the cell phone footage of your final moments, each viewing tearing at Eli's heart anew.

With a heavy heart, Eli finally gathered the courage to fulfill your final wish. He put your paintings up for auction, just as you had requested, each stroke of the brush a painful reminder of the vibrant soul you once were.

Sitting at the back of the auction hall, Eli struggled to maintain his composure as each painting was presented to the eager bidders. Memories flooded his mind with each piece, from the happiest to the darkest, each one a testament to the complexity of your spirit.

He remembered the little girl he once carried in his arms, her bright eyes gazing up at him with an innocence that melted his heart. Back then, he had felt a twinge of disappointment at having a girl instead of the son he had hoped for, but that feeling quickly dissipated as he held you close, your warmth and love filling the void in his heart.

He recalled the annoyance he felt when you were a child, following him everywhere and refusing to leave him alone for a second. He had often found himself exasperated by your constant presence, yearning for moments of solitude that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Then there were the times you had forced him to have tea with you and your dolls, a memory that now brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He remembered the humiliation he had felt, sitting awkwardly amongst your toys, pretending to sip from a tiny porcelain cup as you chattered away happily.

But perhaps the most vivid memory of all was the day you had drawn on the important papers he carried with him everywhere. He had scolded you harshly for it, unable to understand why you would deface something so precious to him. But you had looked up at him with tears in your eyes and explained that you just wanted him to carry a little piece of you with him wherever he went. In that moment, Eli had felt a surge of tenderness towards you, his anger melting away as he realized the depth of your love for him.

As another painting of you went up for auction, Eli forced himself to become stoic, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He watched with a mixture of pride and sadness as the bids climbed higher and higher, each one a testament to the impact you had made on the world with your art.

Finally, a man stood out amongst the crowd, offering two million dollars for one of your paintings. The auctioneer turned to the man and asked for his name, and Eli's heart skipped a beat when he heard the answer.

"Lionel Shabandar," the man introduced himself, his voice carrying a note of authority as he met Eli's gaze with a steely determination.

But Eli looked away, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions as he remembered who Lionel Shabandar was. One of the richest men in London, Shabandar's presence in California seemed out of place. Why would he be here, at this auction, to buy a painting of his daughter's?

The auction continued, and Eli watched in surprise as Shabandar purchased nearly all of the paintings, one after another, with unwavering determination. Eli couldn't comprehend why Shabandar, a man of such wealth and influence, would be interested in his daughter's art. But the sight of him acquiring every piece only deepened the mystery.

As the auction drew to a close and Shabandar rose to leave, Eli felt a sudden urge to confront him. He hurriedly followed Shabandar, calling out for him to wait. Surprisingly, Shabandar halted in his tracks and turned to face Eli, greeting him with a nod as if they were old acquaintances.

"Doctor Eli Michaelson, isn't it?" Shabandar's voice was smooth and cultured, with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Eli nodded, a sense of unease creeping over him. "Yes, that's me. But forgive me if I'm mistaken, but do we know each other?"

Shabandar smiled knowingly. "No, not personally. But I've heard about you, Doctor Michaelson. Congratulations on your Nobel Prize," he said, his tone respectful.

Eli brushed off the compliment, his mind focused on the matter at hand. "Thank you, but that's not why I'm here. I need to know why you bought all those paintings."

Shabandar raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Isn't it obvious? Your daughter was a remarkable artist."

Eli's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Remarkable, yes, but why would you, of all people, be interested in her work?"

Shabandar chuckled softly, gesturing towards the paintings on display. "Because I recognize talent when I see it, Doctor Michaelson. Your daughter's art spoke to me in a way that few others have. Each brushstroke, each detail, conveyed a depth of emotion that is truly rare."

Eli remained unconvinced, his suspicions lingering like a shadow. "And what do you plan to do with her paintings now that you've bought them all?"

Shabandar shrugged nonchalantly. "Display them, perhaps. Or perhaps donate them to a museum. It's too soon to say."

Eli studied Shabandar carefully, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. But Shabandar's demeanor remained calm and composed, his intentions shrouded in mystery.

Before Eli could press further, Shabandar glanced at his watch and made to leave. "I must be going, but congratulations, Doctor Michaelson, your daughter has become a great artist," he said, offering a polite nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Eli was left alone, standing still amidst the bustling auction hall, his thoughts consumed by a flood of memories. As he turned to look at the paintings that had once adorned the walls of your apartment, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride welling up inside him.

You didn't become a great artist, no, you already were for a long time. Since you were a child and scribbled on the walls, on Eli's important papers, until Eli got fed up and gave you a painting kit. He remembered the day vividly, the frustration in his voice as he handed you the brushes and the canvas, hoping to pacify you with a creative outlet.

He could almost see you there, looking at the blank canvas and the paints in your tiny hands, asking your father what you should paint. And he, in his typical dismissive manner, had simply replied, "Paint something that will make me proud."

And you had smiled at him, a radiant beam of innocence that melted his heart, before setting to work with a determination that belied your tender age. You painted and painted, your tiny fingers creating masterpieces that Eli had never thought possible.

But despite your talent, Eli had never been proud of your paintings, always dismissing them as mere child's play. He had been blind to the beauty and depth of your art, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to see the world through your eyes.

As he stood there now, surrounded by the remnants of your creativity, Eli felt a pang of regret gnawing at his conscience. He wished he could go back, to cherish those moments with you, to celebrate your talent and nurture it with the love and support you deserved.

But it was too late for regrets now. All he could do was honor your memory, to ensure that the world knew of the remarkable artist you had been. And as he looked around the auction hall, at the eager bidders clamoring for a piece of your legacy, Eli couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Lionel Shabandar, the enigmatic stranger who had recognized your talent when he had failed to do so.

With a heavy heart, Eli made his way home, the weight of his emotions threatening to crush him with each step. But amidst the grief and the guilt, there was a glimmer of hope, a flicker of pride in knowing that you had left behind a legacy that would endure long after you were gone.

And as he gazed at the painting kit he had given you all those years ago, now gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, Eli made a silent vow to cherish the memory of his daughter, the talented artist whose brilliance had shone brighter than he could have ever imagined.

[blue-slxt]

Romancing Pandora 7

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Somehow, this turned into a fluff piece instead of smut??? Sorry if that's disappointing, I truly don't know how we got here, but here it is lol. I still hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Tsireya x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Pining, Best Friend/Wingman Neteyam, AoNete ship

“You are staring again”, Neteyam singsongs next to you breaking you out of your trance. 

“Shut up, I was not!” The blush on your face is evident even though you try your best to hide your face behind your hair. He chuckles and lightly nudges your shoulder with his own. “You should just go talk to her.” 

“It’s not that simple!” your hands slide down your face in frustration. 

“Sure it is. Just walk up and start a conversation. I do it all the time”, he says matter of factly.

“Well, yea. You’re you! You look like that! And you’re charming and funny and a strong warrior and–” “Please, go on”

You laugh and lightly slap his arm making him raise his hands in mock surrender. 

“My point is, she’s the daughter of the chief. She’s not just anybody. It’s different talking to her.” 

“Oh, yea because I wouldn’t know a thing about that. I’m just dating the future chief. No big deal.” He drips sarcasm and you roll your eyes. 

“Fair.”

Neteyam’s eyes shift from your face to looking right behind you and a smirk crosses his lips. “Don’t freak out, but she’s coming this way”, he half-whispers. 

It feels like your heart rate doubles in a matter of seconds. You hurriedly run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to seem more presentable while still looking casual. Your eyes widen in slight panic looking at Neteyam and he simply raises his brows at you in a way that says ‘just talk like a person’. Thankfully, he starts the conversation to hopefully make the transition easier for you. 

“Tsireya, how are you today?” 

You finally turn around and she’s closer than you had realized. Great Mother, she’s beautiful. Her wavy hair perfectly frames her round face and her eyes somehow seem to always glitter. And her smile makes your heart jump to your throat. 

“I am fine, thank you. I wanted to ask if the two of you will be joining us for the celebration tonight.” Her eyes bounce between the two of you, but her gaze ultimately settles on you waiting for an answer. 

It’s as if your mind has completely melted and took all sense of speaking with it. It’s only when Neteyam lightly nudges you that the lump in your throat allows itself to be swallowed down. 

“Y-yes. Yes, we will. Can’t wait.”

Her smile widens and she beams at you, “Great! I can’t wait to see you there!” She walks past you both to carry on her way and the sway of her hips as she walks leaves you stunned. 

“Well, would you look at that” Neteyam says side-eyeing you playfully.

…

Is it possible to die of nerves? Because if it is, you’re pretty sure that you’re due to drop any second now. The music is loud and there are so many people. Your tail hasn’t stopped thumping against your thigh since you got here. Standing at the edge of the crowd nervously clutching your drink is already overwhelming enough without getting into the mix. 

Neteyam suddenly appears from between the crowd of people and comes over to you very out of breath from dancing. You silently offer him your drink which he happily takes a swig of. 

“Not joining the festivities?” he asks. 

“Look at her, Teyam! She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. How am I possibly supposed to focus long enough to hold an actual conversation with her?” Your tail tapping seems to start tapping double time. 

“Oh, Great Mother, this is ridiculous. Watch. You’ll thank me later. Tsireya!” he calls out to her over the swarm of people. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head from how you’re looking at him. “Tey, what are you doing?” you whisper shout to him, but he ignores you and continues to wave Tsireya over. He catches her attention and she makes her way over to the two of you. Your eyes dart around anxiously as she approaches. 

“She’s nervous about dancing by herself, care to give her a hand?” Neteyam says to her over the music. Tsireya’s smile almost splits her face in half when she grabs you by the wrist and starts to drag you into the crowd. Your head swivels back and forth between Tsireya and Neteyam in a panic. You silently mouth to him ‘asshole’ and he offers you a simple thumbs up in return. 

When Tsireya has you fully immersed in the crowd, she holds both of your hands in hers and starts to help you move to the music. 

“Come on, dance with me!” Her hips sway and her arms flow around her and you can’t help but think how bewitching she looks right now. Slowly, and somewhat clumsily, you start to move to the music and follow her moves. She giggles and does a little clap for you showing how happy she is. She lets go of your hands and just dances on her own. She turns and presses her back against your chest while moving her hips on yours. Your ears stand straight up and you look back at Neteyam wide eyed. He gives you two thumbs up and mouths ‘hold her’ to you. It feels like your hands are trembling as you move them, but you tentatively rest them on her hips and she places her hands over yours. 

Tsireya rests her head back onto your shoulder and she turns her face to you. You know that she has to notice the purple color starting to stain your face with her being so close right now. A gentle smirk spreads on her face and she presses a single kiss to your cheek. The light purple coloring your face deepens to a dark violet and you go stiff as a board. Tsireya giggles at you and turns in your hold to face you. She leans in and whispers in your ear, “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” 

You mindlessly nod your head at her and she giddily takes your hand again to lead you off somewhere. As you’re leaving the crowd, you give one last look to Neteyam who was now joined by Ao’nung. You can see the two of them talking and Neteyam points in your direction which Ao’nung follows with his eyes. They share a laugh and Ao’nung throws his arm over Neteyam’s shoulders before the two of them wave you off. 

Your heart feels like it’s in your stomach, but if it means getting alone time with Tsireya, then you would gladly go wherever she led you.

Taglist: @tallulah477 @eywaite @stickyexpertbailiffjudge @quicktosimp @tumblingdevils @teyamshuman @rivatar @frogletscribe @witchsprit @luvv4j4ybe11 @hope-di-angelo

@neteyams-wh0re @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @sulieykte @xylianasblog @justcaptiannoodles

[loaksbabyy]

why not me?—lo’ak x metkayina!reader

summary: we love a sensitive girlyyy, loak is wayyy to head over heals for tsireya to even acknowledge the humongous crush you have on him.

warnings: none but some cryin

a/n: this is so ass buttt there will be a part 2.and i don’t think i proof read good enough lol..

you couldn’t get that image out of your head.

loak completely dominating tsireya with his tongue, caressing her cheeks with one hand and the other on her waist.

you wanted to die, dramatic no? but that’s how you felt.of course you knew lo’ak wasn’t interested in you but a part of you still had a teeny tiny bit of hope.

you stormed off from this horrifying scene not caring if you were seen or heard.tears carelessly fell down your face as you staggered through the forest not really in a rush to get back home.

“oh ewya, why doesn’t lo’ak see me.” you asked in a hushed voice looking up for an answer.sure it was just a kiss but those were seemingly special to you, and lo’ak had his with someone who wasn’t you which made you crumble inside.

“hi ma” you entered your mauri pod greeting your mother, you sat down next to her to help with the fruits she was chopping up.

“hello my beautiful daughter.” she wholeheartedly smiled at you, luckily she hadn’t noticed the way your face slightly cringed and shy’d away when you heard the word ‘beautiful’ being used on you.

“so, how’d training the sully’s go.”she asked still having her full attention on the fruits.you hesitated to answer still having loaks and tsireyas kiss replay in your head.

“it was great! they’re quick learners.” you complimented them getting up from where you sat the remove your belt, bows, and knifes placing them all on the table.

“well that is good, tonowari wants you and tsireya to help them a bit more in a bit.” she told you causing to you sigh in annoyance.she looked over at the cot you were sat criss cross on, a small frown appeared on her face “you do not enojy training them?” she questioned.

“no! i do! it’s just.. i get tired sometimes y’know.” you whispered the last part fidgeting with your loincloth.she nodded understanding how you said you ‘felt’ when really that’s not the reason at all.

you heard heavy foots steps outside of your mauri pod and heard a familiar voice speak, “y/n, it’s neteyam you ready to go?” he asked waiting for your response, your eyes widened as you hurriedly stood up walking towards the door but before you opened it you fixed your top and ran your fingers through your long jet black hair touching it up a bit.

“see you later mama.” you bent down giving your mom a kiss as she warned you to be safe.you opened the flap to reveal neteyam resting on one of his legs so his hip gently poked out and his arms were crossed against his chest signaling he was in no rush.

“ready?” he placed a hand on your shoulder as you nodded.

…

“demon blood, that’s all they see!” you and neteyam watched from a far behind of couple of tress as the tense, yet confusing, scene unfolding in-front of you.the spot you and tsireya were supposed to be training the boys at was now occupied by this,

“lo’ak..i-i see you.” tsireya stuttered wrapping her whole hand around his ‘extra finger’, giving him those prefect fucking doe eyes.

right then and there you felt like your whole world came crashing down.you know what this means?they’lre definitely gonna be mates.you hadn’t even heard lo’aks response you just let a loud sob escape from your mouth.you quickly covered your mouth but neteyam already heard, “y/n, you ok?.” his face filled with concern knowing what the real problem is.

“y-yea ‘just stepped on the thorn.” you lied.

everyone knew you had a big crush on lo’ak, it was very fucking obviously so for him to not notice and be a damn knuckle head angered neteyam, you did not deserve his little bothers games.he could not say he didn’t know, the way you spoke to him? the way you’d get flustered from any contact with him. or did he actually not fucking know?

from the corner of your eye you could see loak reaching for her top, before you saw anymore you turned your face towards neteyam. “c-can we please go, neteyam?” you begged barely above a whisper but he still heard.

“well uhm..here they come..

[likecanyoujustnot]

Cardan’s letters pov

Part 5: vexation

A/n: I wrote this one last don’t know why. Oh well. I really struggled for ideas for it. I had to make sure cardan didn’t sleep on his back in the court of shadows scene lol.

Part 4. Part 6

Another bloody revel.

I was getting sick of them. Which was saying something since I used to count down the days till the next one.

But Jude had been here then.

I still hadn’t heard back from her, and the roach was refusing to give me any information about her, probably knowing I would do something irrational. Which I would.

“My king.”

Jude?

I turned to the voice.

“Taryn.”

She looked like she hadn’t betrayed me and her sister a month and a half ago. She looked innocent. But there was a tiredness to her, evident by the bags under her eyes and her pale skin. Her simple green dress doing nothing for her complexion.

There was no news of Madoc other than he was somewhere north with the court of teeth. This unnerved me. He was undoubtedly biding his time until he stuck. He always believed me to be a weak and incompetent king. And I would show him I was not.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“I wished to know if you had heard from Jude.” Her hands where clasped in front of her.

I kept my face as blank and my posture as relaxed as I could. “Why would I? I exiled her, put a death penalty on her head, if she sets foot here she could die.” She could die, if a guard found her and decided to kill-now-ask-questions-later, I didn’t even want to think about it. But Taryn didn’t need to know about the loophole.

“I wasn’t sure if maybe she’d asked to be able to come back.”

“It’s Jude, she doesn’t ask permission, if she wanted to be here she would, and she would first go for the people, who have betrayed her.” I put an emphasis on people, hoping she would get the hint that Jude was just as upset with her as she was with me. Presumably.

I got the reaction I wanted from Taryn. She flinched. “I really didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean to pretend to be my seneschal, and trick me into releasing my general from his oaths, effectively allowing him to declare war on me?”

“He made it sound like it was the right thing to do.” She looked at her feet.

“That’s what manipulation is. Now get out of my sight.” I didn’t have time for her self-pity stories.

How could she just stand there and look so much like Jude, but be so wholly different? I watched her retreating back, her shoulders tense.

I stared at the wine in my glass. Horrid thing.

There were footsteps up to the dias.

“Cardan.” A soft feminine voice said.

Nicasia. My former friend, my former arranged fiancée, my former lover. Before she’d ruined that. Today was a day for bringing up past demons.

“What.” I snapped, not even trying to be pleasant. I was only going to stay another few minutes before I went back to sulk over my disastrous marriage.

She looked beautiful. Dark hair swept up and held in place with pearled combs, the cut of her deep purple dress low and inviting. Once upon a time I would’ve invited her to my bed, but the princess was as interesting to me as a rock in that moment.

“You’ve been acting weird.”

I sighed. “I don’t need you to worry about me.”

“You’re my friend.”

I raised a brow at her. “Didn’t stop you from cheating on me.”

She at least had the decency to look ashamed. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yes, and I’ve finally come to terms with it, I was never enough for you Nicasia, no one will ever be, you will tire of who ever warms your bed and move on like they never existed.” I was married now, and Nicasia needed to understand nothing would ever come of pining over me again. “I no longer have to deal with your presence to avoid upsetting our parents, I will never marry you, no matter what your mother may want. And that is final.”

She looked hurt. “Is that it? You’re ending our friendship over mistakes I made years ago?”

“I’m ending our relationship for many things, what you did to Jude when you kidnapped her being one, allowing balekin to control her, starving her.” The way she looked as she was half dragged out of the water would haunt me till the end of my days. She’d been so pale, so thin. I threw up that night. Cried for seeing her like that. My strong fierce Jude. “Allying with the man who killed my family-”

“Those were my mother’s choices.” She protested.

“And you went along with them.” I shut her down.

“Is that it? Jude? You care that much for her you would cut me out of your life?”

“I’m not cutting you out, I’m merely suggesting you stay away from the high court when it is not absolutely necessary.” I stood.

“It is Jude.” She laughed. “Of course it is, I knew you liked her, we all did, you’d stare at her, bring her up in conversations that had nothing to do with her, you’re pathetic.”

I kept quiet. I could not deny it. I loved Jude more than anything. And i was glad to be rid of Nicasia, had been looking for a way for years. Now I had one.

“I hope she never comes back. Or she does just so she can kill you. You’d deserve it.” She storms away back to her entourage of kelpies and merfolk.

Good riddance.

She had been a good friend, cruel, but never to me. When we’d decided to take our relationship further, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Until it wasn’t.

I’d written another yesterday.

To the High Queen of Elfhame

Above me is the same silvery moon that shines down on you. Looking at it makes me recall the glint of your blade pressed to my throat and other romantic moments.

I do not know what keeps you from returning to the High Court- whether it is a vexation with me, or whether, having spent time in the mortal world, you have come to believe a life free of the folk is better than one ruling over them.

In my most wretched hours I believe you will never come back.

Why would you, save for your ambition? You have always known exactly what I am and seen all my failings, all my weaknesses and scars. I flattered myself that at moments you had feelings for me other than contempt, but even were that true, they would make but a thin gruel beside the feast of your other, greater desires.

And yet my heart is buried with you in the strange soil of the mortal world, as it was drowned with you in the cold waters of the undersea.

It was yours before I could ever admit it, and yours it shall ever remain.

Cardan

It was the longest one that I had written, one that bared what was in my heart, and left things unsaid, for me to tell her if she ever did come back.

I took the crown of my head and studied it.

It was heavy, made of soft gold, it would be so easy to just, break it.

But I wouldn’t do that.

I kept it in my hand as I got up to leave the revel.

I was stopped by a young woman, thick dark hair that offset the slightest green tinge in her skin. I noticed her fingers had an extra joint. Strange, but not unheard of.

“My king.” She bowed.

“Can I help you?” I sneered at her.

“I was wondering if you may wish to join me tonight?”

I huffed. “Not interested, sorry.”

She looked crestfallen as I walked away.

I caught a flash of orange hair as I walked away.

Of course Locke would swoop in to “comfort” a woman at the same party his wife was at.

He made me sick.

I hoped someone cut his throat

I stared at the ceiling from where I layed in bed. Hands folded over my bare stomach, wishing, as I always did, that Jude was here. She would chastise me for being so pathetic, for longing so strongly for her.

56 days. 8 weeks. 5 letters.

And I hadn’t even gotten a “piss off Cardan, I’m not coming back”

It was silence.

As always during this time of night, even before her exile, my thoughts strayed to Jude.

To her smile and mouth, her soft hair, her curves and the way she tasted when I kissed her. The noises she did her best to muffle. How every time she looked at me I wanted to make the world disappear so it would just be the two of us and I could live out my fantasies.

Great. Now I was hot and uncomfortable. But I wouldn’t do anything about it.

This was my self-inflicted punishment, the misery.

I couldn’t sleep on my back.

The position was too vulnerable. Reminded me too much of the horrors I’d faced from my brother.

Maybe one day I would tell Jude.

Maybe.

If,

She,

Ever,

Came,

Back…

[chiffiorra]

╰┈➤ Before Constellations, There Were Chains

➜ Synopsis: You thought you would be fated to die alone thanks to your mother's actions. But in the eyes of someone else, you didn't deserve it.

➜ Pairings: Perseus!Yoichi Isagi x fem!Andromeda!reader

➜ This Fic Contains the Following: Reader is the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, reader is not having a good time thanks to mother's actions lol, nudity (not sexual), marriage proposal, author's first Blue Lock fic, potential word vomit, angst with a happy ending

➜ WC: 1,370

➜ Note: my second part of the Touch of Divine Rush collab! thanks again to @dark-mnjiro for letting me participate! i had so much fun writing both of my pieces 🙏🏽💕! man i hope isagi is not ooc in this haha

This wasn't your fault.

This wasn't your fault.

This wasn't your fault.

That was the sentence you kept repeating in your head as you were stuck on this strange and vast land with weather that was much too cold for your liking. As the wind raged on, you could only wish that you were able to turn back time to where everything was fine and you were much happier in your life. But now?

You were completely and utterly miserable having wondered what you had done to deserve such a horrific fate. 

Oh wait, now that you thought about it, there was one person to blame for this mess that transpired. 

Cassiopeia, also known as your mother. 

Unlike you, Cassiopeia was much known for running her mouth and boasting about her beauty and yours. While it always flattered you, it was never a good idea for a mortal to boast that their beauty was far greater than a god's. Such an act was considered blasphemy to many, especially to the gods. And little did you know, an act like that was going to hurt you greatly later on. 

And bring you a savior that you never expected. 

How did this all happen? Let’s go back to where it all began…

“You are to be put as a sacrifice for the kingdom.” You remembered hearing your father say to you, you also remembered the look of horror you made when he dropped the ball on you. You also remembered that you froze, at a loss from what you were told.

“But father, why?” You stammered out, unable to comprehend why he would come to such a conclusion. Your mother said nothing to you, she didn’t even have the courtesy to look your way as you looked hers for help and hoped that your father just went mad, or was jesting at the very least. But no, not even a glance at you. You noted the slight shake in her hands. 

Cepheus only gave you a dejected look in return as he continued on, “I had spoken with Zeus, in order to keep our home from being lost, only you would save us all. As our sacrifice,” he then pulled you close to him in a hug, as if that was enough to comfort you. “Because of your mother’s actions, this is the only way we can be free of that brute’s wrath on us.”

This time, your mother had the audacity to look your way. But not at you, but at your father with an angry glare. Almost like this whole ordeal wasn’t her fault, but it was. Because of her, the Nereids of the sea were angry and complained to Poseidon, the god of the sea. Unfortunately for you and the rest of the kingdom, Poseidon decided to appease to the sea nymphs by unleashing a sea monster named Cetus onto your people out of anger. Desperate to stop the eventual destruction of the kingdom, Cepheus pleaded to Zeus for any solution and said god recommended that you be put as a sacrifice for the beast and also as a way for Cassiopeia, to atone for her crime against the gods, of which you had absolutely no part in. This was the only way for the beast to leave the kingdom in peace.

Which led you to your current predicament now, chained to the rocks on the shores of Jaffa with barely any way for you to move without feeling discomfort or pain, and the worst part was you were fully in the nude, as if it was all the more to humiliate you while leaving you to your doom. You were also shivering thanks to the strong winds that blew towards and around you along with waves that would splash you every now and then, which made your shivering worse. You were miserable. 

You began to cry, despite already crying earlier, still feeling the tear tracks thanks to the windy weather. You already cried earlier before as you were abandoned by your parents and everyone you loved… So what good was more crying going to do for you? You didn’t know and you couldn’t help it either. 

It was getting harder to see or breathe thanks to your tears and the sobs you let out as you once again attempted to wriggle your wrists around to free yourself.

Again, it was all futile. You sighed in defeat as you awaited your fate, for that horrendous sea monster to ravage you as part of his lunch. It was a pity that you never got to live your life as you wanted to, that the book of your life was gonna end abruptly with torn off pages or an unfinished sentence.

As you looked down at the raging waves in bitter resentment towards your mother for causing this mess and to your father for letting you go so easily, you weren’t expecting to hear someone calling out to you.

As you looked up to see who it could be, you locked eyes with a young man who wore a concerned expression on his face. Oddly enough, he wasn’t sailing through the sea as one would usually do, he was on a winged horse. He looked well built and strong, with dark blue hair and deep blue eyes that lit up with curiosity at the sight of you. 

“Are you alright? What happened to you?” He had asked the first question once again.

You were shocked that someone actually seemed concerned for you at this time, but you at least found it in yourself to answer: “I’m not alright, I was abandoned here…” you trailed off.

This time, the man was in disbelief, “Why?’ He asked.

“Sacrifice. Because of my mother’s boastfulness, I have to suffer the consequences for something that I had no part in. I am to be a sacrifice for a sea monster,” you answered.

He couldn’t respond at first, he seemed to be in deep pondering as to why you were left alone over someone else’s mistake. This whole mess wasn’t your fault at all, you weren’t to blame for anything. But in a way, maybe it was for the better that you were here alone.

Because he never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams, that he would meet someone as beautiful as you. This must be fate, as funny as that theory sounded. He now knew what he had to do to make things right.

You were confused by the determined expression he wore as he asked for your name. After you answered, he declared, “My name is Yoichi, my fair maiden. I am going to save you, you will no longer be some beast’s meal.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked, “But what about Poseidon?’

“Poseidon be damned,” he responded. This made your heart skip a beat at his words.

And so, true to his word, the man you now knew as Yoichi was true to his word and slayed the beast known as Cetus. What disgusted the hero was that said beast had the audacity to lick his lips at the sight of your figure, but that didn’t last long as he was now dead and sleeping with the fishes. 

At first you had doubts that he would rescue you, but Yoichi returning to you after his battle squashed those doubts into nothing. As he freed you and you held onto him as he flew you home with Pegasus, you knew that you would be alright in his hands as a small smile grew onto your face. 

As you were reunited with your parents, Yoichi then asked your father for your hand in marriage. And you were okay with this proposal, he was your savior and rescued you from a tragic end. How could you refuse him? At your insistence, you two were wedded not long after. After you passed on, the goddess Athena placed an image of you amongst the stars along with your husband.

As for your mother, her constellation still faced repercussions even centuries later, close to the North Star and never below the horizon. Hanging from her throne and never to bathe below the horizon for her hubris.

[lokittystuckinatree]

LCU (Loki Cinematic Universe) Rewatch Part Three here we come!

Thor: the Dark World

Oh Gods I forgot how…indescribable this movie is. I have no words. The outfits and settings look so real and the elves look so fake?

Me every time I see Loki: oOmMgGg Hiiiiiiiiiii 😘

“Mother did I make you proud?” And the whole way he handles this scene…How did anyone ever take him seriously - no wonder he went off the rails, that’s his greatest fear

“Do you not feel the gravity of your crimes” ok this is pure speculation but going off of what we know about Loki’s moral and emotional system - he’s capable of remorse and empathy, but he tends to compartmentalize and bury guilt and shame, repress and conceal his true feelings, and rationalize, minimize and justify his actions instead of accepting what he sees as weakness, so yes, I’d imagine that deep down he absolutely fucking feels it. And it don’t feel good.

Loki justifies his imperialism genocide and violence in an imperial genocidal militaristic society but the second he becomes king he decreases military intervention something something (one of the good bits of Ragnarok)

“I don’t enjoy hurting people” But Odin does. And so Loki pretends to.

BOOOOOO Odin no one likes you BOOOOOOO SCREW YOU

oMggg Sif hiiiiiii. Look at her, Thor. LOOK at her! With your eyes! She prettyyyyy

Odin and Thor: talking about Thor’s love life. Loki probably: rocking back in forth in his cell because no one’s ever gonna love him. Another Loki at the same time: chasing his soulmate across spacetime because she pulled a Loki on him and he finds that endearing

The sets and ambiance of Asgard are gorgeous how do I move there

Yet another obscure character I don’t remember, Darcy’s in the comics now I’m so proud, Selvig’s lost his last marble, so have I Selvig, so have I

The weird gravity/time space anomaly/warp thing in that abandoned building actually makes for a fun scene. You cannot change my mind on this. The Aether is pretty creepy though ngl.

Thor and Jane are so cringe together. I love them. They also break my heart

The plot of this movie is really…something

Loki and Frigga’s bond actually makes me teary I know they didn’t have the best relationship it was strained and toxic at times but omg they care about eachother so much I’m getting emotional…she genuinely was the only person Loki truly loved in a healthy way. And he fucking lost her. FUCK

Cut to me relating to Loki so much it makes me physically recoil. I’d get into why but I’m not trauma dumping today.

“I don’t know why Loki helped the dark elf get into the palace”…lol stop lying to yourself you know the reason very well. You have the same resentment and lust for chaos inside you that Loki does…that desperate grief that makes you want to burn down the world that burned you. you know. I see my worst in Loki, and his story gives me hope that I can change. There’s a good chance I will die young (medical shit) and Loki dying young also gives me comfort.

This movie is peak Loki. I just fucking adore the little shit. I just aahfhkjkmng *aggressively squeezes*

Heimdall is underrated

Someone on discord said Frigga autocorrected to Fridged on their phone and Frigga’s dying and that’s all I can think about rip…bruh this scene hits a lot harder after my dad’s death ✌️

HE WASNT EVEN ALLOWED AT HER FUCKING FUNERAL FUCK YOU ODIN DRINK BLEACH!!!!Anyways I forgot how cinematic and heartbreakingly beautiful the funeral was

YOU CAN SEE THE SPARK LEAVE HIS FUCKING EYES IM GONNA FIGHT ODIN IN A DENNYS PARKING LOT. I’m ending on the Loki illusion scene for tonight because it’s 3 am and I’m in emotional distress.

How can anyone watch the illusion scene and the deleted bits and actually believe Loki is a cold hearted psychopath? I have this fucked up headcanon that Loki almost attempted suicide after Frigga’s death and either stopped himself…or Thor showed up right on time. I can’t prove it but I know it’s true by gut instinct.

There’s something so weirdly profound about someone who seeks out death being unkillable. Character who thinks he represents death actually represents life. That’s something the Loki series actually did well. They definitely screwed up his character in places, but I can see the backbone of what they intended. I don’t know how to explain this, but I don’t ship Sylvie with TVA Loki, I ship her with Pre-Ragnarok Loki. Aka, I characterize TVA Loki as closer to OG Loki than he is thus far.

There’s a tiny detail about Loki that makes me go feral. You have to psychoanalyze a little, but Loki doubts his brother even cares about him, so whenever Thor says he feels betrayed and threatens him, Loki smiles. It means Thor cared. It means there’s hope. Negative attention is better than none at all. Disappointment is better than apathy. I wish I didn’t know how he feels.

[jq37]

I’m justifying bright Roz to myself because she was asleep. and it’s a great contrast. and the briars loved her! sure, blood and thorns but they wanted her safe! I want to know if anyone else was safe enough to wake up in Reverie, when she did, because that was the curse, wasn’t it? If they all fell asleep with her, wouldn’t they all wake up too?

but ngl Cole and Jubilee are the most intriguing thing to me. Everything about Timothy Goose. And I’m a princess non-girl so I went in like, I’m going to care about Roz and Red the most. but WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH THAT GODDAMN GOOSE.

Oh, thank you for reminding me about another point I wanted to make. Why did everyone in Reverie die??? Because you’re right. In the traditional Sleeping Beauty story, everyone would wake up with her. But also, in the traditional Sleeping Beauty story, she doesn’t have to wait so long to get rescued. Maybe it’s as simple as she was protected by the plants and everyone else starved. Maybe the plants actively took the life force of everyone who wasn’t her? We don’t know. I feel like if I was her, I would definitely ask around. It has to be lonely to be a woman alone in such a dark future, even if you’re so optimistic.

I love optimistic princess-y character by the way. Disenchanted dropped last month and I was reminded why Enchanted is my fave movie and why I love Giselle so much. I love a character who gets plopped into NYC and is like OK, time to make friends with the roaches :) I kinda hope she just stays like that all season, lol. Chase your dreams you little ray of sunshine.

Cole is another question mark. Why does he have such beef with Shoeberg? And why is he in a Ram’s chariot? That seems so off brand! More Greek myth than nursery rhyme. There’s not a lot in his rhyme to go off of. Traditionally he’s a merry old soul with a pipe, a bowl, and his fiddlers three which Roz mentioned. Of course it could turn out this random dude’s pipe is actually the key to this whole thing (much dumber things have happened in Once Upon a Time) but we simply don’t have enough info yet. I will say that I consider Old King Cole and There Was An Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe to be the same "type" of rhyme (in the same way I would say Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are equivalent) and I'm betting Brennan took these things into account in the same way he did for Crown of Candy.

And I’ll use this time to talk a little bit more about geese and ganders.

There are 3 main stories that involve geese/ganders that I know of.

Mother Goose and the Golden Egg: This is where we get the info that Mother Goose rides a gander (a “very fine” gander—that was illustrated as being huge and black in the image I saw) and has a son named Jack who isn’t very good or very bad. In this rhyme, Jack manages to buy a goose. The goose gets close to the gander. And then the goose lays a golden egg. Other stuff happens too which involves, iirc, trouble Jack gets into that his mom has to help him with but I’m not looking at it right now.

Jack and the Beanstalk: When Jack climbs up the beanstalk to get to the giants, one of the things he steals is a goose that lays golden eggs (in some versions it’s a hen though).

The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs: This is the one the saying comes from about not killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. Couple finds a goose that lays golden eggs. The couple, clearly lacking an elementary schooler’s knowledge of how birds work, decides to kill it to cut it open and get all their eggs at once. It doesn’t go well.

Does any of this mean anything? I don’t know! Just throwing it out there in case it helps anyone else with their sleuthing.

I have no idea what this gander wants from Tim and all the other people he apparently trapped into deals. Like, what’s his endgame? He’s described as cosmic which to me says eldritch but what does that mean in this context? And is he A Big Bad or The Big Bad, you know? Like clearly, he’s important but I’m not sure he’s so important that he’s BEHIND the whole times of shadow. He more seems like a part of it. But we shall see! This is all very fun to try and puzzle out.

[thegreymoon]

Love Like the Galaxy

Starting Love Like the Galaxy!

I usually stay away from stuff that is ‘in progress’ because you never know when it will start sucking or even get outright dropped or cancelled, but I’ve only seen nice things about this drama so far, so I’m going to risk it! Expectations are high!! 

***

Our male lead, looking good!

***

LMAO, I love her already 😂😂

***

Yes, girl, show that bun who the boss is around here!

***

Poke her evil eye out! Go on! Do it!

***

Gorgeous 💚

***

LMAOOO

Serves you right, bitch! I have no idea what is going on here, but I hate her already.

***

I love the cow, though.

***

LMAO, I wonder what she did! It must have been glorious!

Her family seems to be shit. 

***

Typical abuser mentality.

“We’re tormenting you for your own good! You should thank us!”

I hope she ends them all. 

***

Good girl!

Don’t give them an inch, make their lives miserable!

***

Cackling 🤣🤣

***

I’ve known her for two seconds and I like her already!

***

Gross person.

I can smell her through the screen. 

***

LMAOOOO, did she just snitch on her uncle?

***

Wait, they are her parents?

But why did they abandon her?

***

Oh, shut up.

***

Clearly.

ALSO, THEY HAVEN’T SEEN THEIR DAUGHTER IN FIFTEEN YEARS? CAN THEY EVEN BE CALLED PARENTS AT THIS POINT?

***

I love her 😂😂

***

Oh, shut up, you gross evil witch.

What else have you been doing?

***

I hate to agree with her on anything, but...

***

We all will be.

***

Yes. Say it! Stab where it hurts!

***

But that’s a good thing! There is no shame in failing a family that has failed you first. 

Good. And they don’t deserve respect.

Again, this is a good thing! Don’t be mad! For one, I think he was being sincere when he came to pay his respects. 

***

Umm... this just sounds like common sense?

I can’t stand this woman.

***

Oh, die already.

***

LMAO, nothing gets past this woman.

***

I love that she’s so sharp and insightful.

She certainly inherited her mother’s intelligence, but let’s see if she got her ruthlessness too. 

***

Their mistakes?

What about you being a shitty mother? Who is going to rectify that? 

***

LOL, she’s going to report her entire corrupt family to the authorities 😂😂

***

Cackling 🤣🤣

***

Oh, my god, if there is one thing I cannot stand, it’s these manipulators. Just go and die, die, die!!!!!!!!!!!!

***

Cackling 🤣🤣

***

Cackling some more 🤣🤣

***

This family is the literal worst.

***

LMAO, I love the lighting choices for this scene 😂😂

Like a merciless little baby god in the bowels of hell.

***

You haven’t met Niaoniao yet! 

She’s the cutest little liar you will ever meet! 

***

I hate clingy, manipulative parents like her. Just let your children live, ffs.

Of course he’s going to be more devoted to his wife!

***

The nerve of her, punishing a daughter she abandoned.

You do not show up when your child is a fucking teen and then expect to have parental authority. 

***

This woman is stupid beautiful.

***

Oh, baby 😢

She doesn’t deserve to be called a mother in any sense. 

[eviltiddyproductions]

Vincenzo: Episode 15

We’re finally on 15

also I forget HOW much happens in one episode. they had the pig’s blood thing in that one too

Inzaghiiii !!! the pigeon 🐦

omg her crow era, generally crows remember and attack

she got her whole gang here! I thought Chayoung was going to come to rescue him but the pigeons actually make it more funny

such an unserious show actually

look at Inzaghi blink back omg motherrr

Inzaghi is a boy pigeon?

my beautiful red head art director is about to die

Evil CEO doesn’t scare me at all actually. He’s just physically violent. Evil lawyer lady terrifies me more. She’s so !!???

Bodied Ms Choi

I feel for the art director. My babie

I guess the mother knows that’s her son

When I saw Chayoung alone I thought my girl was going to be attacked

awww their little fist bump

eugh I have a bad feeling

no he’s speaking about the guillotine file

BUILDING PEOPLE RELOCATE !!!

honestly I’m actually really confused by this. I thought the double crossing rn still had a point like he’d come clean about another plan or something. this is just greedy and weird. why change now 💀

oh I think she knows that’s his mom

Oh I assumed she clocked on that fish snack detail

so what was in the letter 🤨

I feel like they drink as much coffee as I do

I KNEW HE HAD THE FILE ON HIM !!!

little bro why are you here. oh he got them a gift

they know about the gold. evacuate the building 😭

I know he’s a little devil in the making but he’s seemed more at home and happy here in 2 minutes than the entirety of his time in the Babel monstrosity. get your shit together little bro !!!

noooo I hope the mom and building people are going to be okay 🙏

I feel like these two evil dumbasses are about to figure out that Chayoung is the way to hurt him

our man looks sooo good actually. his swoop has become permanent since the last episode. I love it

lmaoooo they really think he can play a shaman?! okay slay

he voted for her to be the shaman lmao. look at his laugh 😂

well he’s the shaman regardless

has no one started passing around Vincenzo’s pictures though lmao. art galleries, auditoriums, shamans, he can just show up anywhere and they don’t recognise him at all

Mr Nam managing to be in a get up everytime they do this is actually SO FUNNY

THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD

is this adrenaline but make it traditional

the flower on his ear !!! my baby girl fr

A beautiful man

the damn pigeon

these three 🤣🤣🤣

a flair for the dramatic, I love these 3 like the whole fan and writing sequence. chef’s kiss

I want this sequence framed. MY BEAUTIFUL BABIES.

him fanning her. a true gentleman 💀💗

Evil brother CEO is actually insane like wdym he killed 4 of his classmates when he was young ???

little himbo evil brother SAVE yourself. get out of there

not Ms Chayoung’s anti drug agenda 💀😭 #real

Kdramas sometimes go full Indian TV with the amount of things that happen in 20 episodes ngl

probably one of the first times Jung is experiencing someone switching up on him at the last moment. that's what your company does all the time lol, you deserve it 😘

honestly who could believe our man was a corn salad (even i can't spell his job lmao) in Italy and part of the mafia. look at him acting for like the 800th time. the shaman is the best performance till now though! 10/10

'fate smiles most generously on brave souls and frowns mildly on those with no backbone' bars

the life page looks so good except i think Babel will gun for this man

adore this shaman track because i get to see my man with a small flower 🌼

I saw a car trying to run over Mr. Cho again and immediately thought evil lawyer lady was around

slay Mr. Cho slay

no they're going to go after his mom no no no 😭😭😭 (kinda surprised it took them this LONG to dig into his personal life lol talk about being overconfident)

take someone else instead for now. that lady barely has a breath left omg nooo. let one parent and child stay goodbye

Evil Lawyer lady and CEO when I get my hands on YOU

At least they know about Babel knowing about the building and the file

Oh no is Mr Cho about to die....

NO NO NO NO NO IT'S MR AN I AM GOING TO HURL NOOOOOOO

wait no it's just the media guy oh my god thank god

[iman2]

???

Stop NOW!

You is my mother? Weird, I’m Brandon right. Como estas?

Why are you speaking Spanish now.

Cuz I’m old right? What the fuck is your name?

Mali.

The truth teller. Nice.

I’m NOT an Indian. And I blame Christopher for this still being public. You already over do the readings.

Lol it’s how you’re a transgender.

Yeah.

See I’m beautiful. This is how we look to everyone. 💕

It’s hurts but not everyone. Something interesting happened, just now, Alyssa.

Don’t start staying good things about yourself.

I won’t. But it’s still weird. I don’t think this how I look to people.

That’s how you smell. Gay boy.

What is alyuh fucking problem? Just die already.

No! NO.

Girl bye. What’s taking you so long? Is EVERY MAN JACK TOO. Everybody dead.

You smell like PISS AND SHIT.

I though you was gonna beat me up? What was that fucking shit you waz saying about how you woulda beat me UP? lol. You living in d Gaza and cah get nobody to shoot me. LMAOOOOOOOOO.

I’m so hurt that you..

Not typing that. A Christmas fucking miracle 🔥🔥🔥🔥 it nuh happening, you’re dead to me atleast. I’m not forgiving you so ask for something else. I hope kaly is there. Richard too. 🎶🎶🎶Gaza bwoy like meeee, me no mad. No mad ova no gyalllll…🎶🎶🎶

…

So funny how these things work. Kiersey is laughing. I hope this is will be me soon. Hold on.

Fairy! Fairy! Fairy!

Lmaooo I forgot kids can see these things. Hey. What’s wrong with Wish?

Ummm what’s Wish?

A Disney movie, you don’t know about it?

Where is the movie star person?

Oh…ummm, hmmm. Is her name Patrice? Don’t think, just say yes or no.

Me.

You’re the movie star? Thanks.

You can’t do that to me, Mali.

Fuck off? And my head hurts. Those kids. I feel like I’m a trance.

You’re gonna leave.

Lol talk to bootz.

No. I’m talking to you. I wanted you, everyone knows. They know that.

Who is everyone.

It’s more than you think.

Yeah, Chris himself is a shitload of people. Why are you here?

I’m not that type of person, they made me like that.

Yes, you were used. Should’ve chose me from the jump. I would’ve just fucked Chris under low.

I need to be someone good. I’m the bad guy.

So be someone good? What’s wrong with my head?

You’re not wrong, so, ether stuff. That was to be our wedding.

You are GAY.

So you’re leaving.

???? So funny how these gifs work. Are you gonna die kilmonger?

I dunno.

[allforafro]

ok, I hope that whoever reads this still remembers more or less what happened in each episode, if not, it may not make sense to you

opinions about individual episodes of heroes season 3 begin

3.1

I don't know anything about medicine, but the Nathan rescue scene was weird/badly done

peter looks good as usual

got hit by a teenager lol

Sylar started working in horror films during his break

I understand you maya I don't understand science either

hiro is cute and childish

You have to save the world, so I will speak in riddles

what happened, what are you doing, future peter

nathan I almost died but I'm alive and I'm more religious em ok dude

Mohinder, what's wrong with you?

sylar what the hell are you talking about?

this scene was quite disgusting

oh mother mohinder go to therapy because with your obsession with sylar you can't live a normal life

why everyone is coming back from the dead this season

Matt, get up, there's a scorpion on your face, it's scary

did mohinder die because that would be funny

Angela is great as usual

what the hell is this narrator text?

no, he's still alive

3.2

Claire was traumatized and now feels no pain

nice vision Angela

maya is beautiful mohinder you should focus on flirting with her and not bullshit

but you could slow down a bit

maybe because you didn't raise her, you asshole

is this another niki personality?

Millbrook stole some good stuff

life dilemmas (not sarcasm)

is Linderman just an illusion?

poor elle

kill him noah, too bad sylar is immortal

the best thing is that the others don't know that the screaming guy is Peter

or you misunderstood future hiro

you can't tell anyone the truth except nathan, you haven't changed anything peter

ok tracy is definitely not Niki

no hiro don't turn your back on ando

Is there something wrong, Dr. Suresh? it was obvious, idiot

disgusting!!!

talking turtle lol

Africa? Interesting

why isn't claire so surprised that her father is alive, didn't they think he was dead

Yes! nathan is crazy, let's go!!!

I don't know if the company is bad or good anymore

That scene with Meredith showing up was weird (I mean their faces)

I wonder what Jessie can do?

angela is creepy

3.3

Angela is Sylar's mother, did I miss something? no, she's definitely winding him up

duet noah and sylar I didn't know I needed this in my life

lyle is right

claire lol

sandra is right claire, education is important

XD angela plays sylar as she wants

Daphne is funny

this guy knows matt's life, interesting

Lol sylar you watched too many movies

you don't know peter

Sylar probably won't listen to Noah and it will be a mess

Is Tracy Niki's twin sister?

this lecturer is hopeless, Zimmerman's name is read with a "C"

it wasn't her fault, it was yours hiro

mother-daughter bond

their partnership is great

is this the series where noah becomes a cosmic godfather to everyone with special abilities

what does matt have in common with this african guy?

Claire doesn't go to school but she goes to cheerleading practice, that's just an excuse

This Zimmerman is interesting

music puts them into a trance?

yes noah kill him

Why did I develop the desire to kill Sylar? This guy didn't do anything to me

shrugs - whatever

3.4

I become death, how dramatic (yes, I know what the title refers to)

Rash? allergy? This is disgusting

Triplets? Interesting

they gave them powers

Hey, wait, didn't Niki have a sister, Jessica?

this time four, not five in the future

It's funny but both present peter and future peter are right

yes peter sylar will help you lol

don't manipulate her feelings mohinder

I don't know why but I laughed at the scenes between peter and future mohinder

I made the same face as peter

uuu gabriel is adorable

it's funny that everyone says peter is a villain

If you want my power, fix this watch

not poor little noah, poor gabriel

stop acting like children hiro and ando

web yuck

Was Nathan going to have an affair with another of the triplets, I knew

I wonder if when we meet the third one, Nathan will also have an affair with her

army of super soldiers

don't hurt nathan peter

No!!!

You're here, brother

A spiritual journey

Cemetery?

Adam!!! Yay!!!

3.5

I wonder who has this formula

Everyone prefers clear answers nathan

Linderman from Nathan's head is weird

Ok mohinder I'm not going to comment on this

better kill your mother peter it will be good for everyone

Angela's weakness on peter is great

Sandra is a good mother

Wow Claire is turning into Noah

Lol adam is funny

Interesting thing about this Linderman from other people's heads

It turns out that not all of these Level 5 people are bad

If a guy keeps silent about something, there's something wrong

Okay, this is getting scary, run away, maya!

I wonder if it's really God?

No

He killed me once and now he saved me

I don't know if I trust you on this, noah

Nathan has artificial abilities?!

He lives!

Just like in horror

Well, whatever you say, no one would think of it

Kill him, maya, it will be better for him

Suresh is harmless, lol I guess not anymore

oh hiro, ando

What? Hiro no!

Why is ando always unlucky

Lol that Sylar in the back of the car

Sometimes you're stupid noah

Who is this disgusting guy?

I wonder what this pinehearst is?

Is this Arthur Petrelli?

That's him, interesting

3.6

Fortunately, it's a trick

She goes with her wow

I wonder what ability Arthur has

I wouldn't like to ask mohinder for help but they don't know that he has become weird

Matt this is weird

Trust him, Daphne

So now you're killing people mohinder wow

How is he supposed to know that, he's not his future self

So he's the puppet master

What did you expect, hiro

Listen to her mohinder she is right

The shooting scene was intense

Sylar just want to be loved by mommy

Let's drug each other, it's a real family thing

Take her hand, I told you so

Actually it may be true that you may not be able to help her matt

Invisible peter yes

Surprise!

he takes away their powers, not bad

I wonder how they are going to defeat arthur

that's all for now, the rest when I have time

[freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist]

🎰🍷dancing with him at a ball🍷🎰

🍷☾︎𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐌𝐏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫☽︎🍷

Art by: Inozuart

Go and check out their speed paint they did of this beautiful art on youtube!

🍷☾︎𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐫, 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲🍷

𝐀/𝐍: Highkey simping over the TNT duo right now, ngl. Quackity is just getting better and better- Definitely gonna do these prompts with Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy. I just think that it would be really cute to dance with them at a ball lol

____________________________________________

                             ☠︎︎☾︎ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴇʙᴜʀ☽︎☠︎︎

To say it was strange to see Wilbur Soot standing near a bar and drinking a glass full of blood-red wine would be a complete understatement.

(Y/n) had never spoken to him fully before, they more so made a lot of conversation they could build off of but neither decided to go through with it. (Y/n) hung around Alex, George, Sapnap and Karl more so than the rest of the SMP.

Hence why she was forced to go to this god forbidden ball.

She sat at a stool near the corner of the huge ballroom, her body wrapped in a tight and mildly uncomfortable maroon coloured dress.

'End me.' She thought mindlessly as she took another large swig of tequila, watching everyone dance around and laugh with eachother.

George, Sapnap and Karl weren't invited to the ball, she noted.

She had heard that they weren't on good terms with Quackity as of late, and he was the one who threw this ball.

She may have been lonely at this ball, but she felt as though eyes were on her at all times. It was weird. Very weird.

Every once in a while, her eyes would land on Wilbur's tall form. He seemed lonely as well, a bored and unamused expression on his stitched face.

His eyes were kept still on Tommy who was dancing around with Tubbo and Ranboo, who both had large grins on their faces.

(Y/n) found it cute that even after dying and coming back, Wilbur still held a sort of fondness towards Tommy.

She doesn't blame him, Tommy was a good kid.

A kid that's been through too much.

The girl frowned deeply and took another shot of tequila. And just like that, the eyes were on her again. Her eyes shot from her tequila that she was swirling to Wilbur, eyes widening slightly when they met with his harsh brown eyes.

He kept eye contact, eyebrows raising slightly at her in interest before he sent her a small smile, a fake one. (Y/n) could tell it was fake from a mile away. It was one of those smiles that you give strangers as they walk passed you on a sidewalk.

Huffing out a condescending chuckle, the girl rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, drinking the last of her tequila and went back to watching everyone dance.

The action clearly stirred more curosity within him, because all of a sudden he felt himself walk over to her with a wine bottle in hand and two wine glasses in the other.

(Y/n) was snapped from her daze when she heard someone clear their throat from beside her. Her head snapped up and met with his dead-cold eyes again.

There was silence before she spoke up, her tone sharp yet inviting," Can I help you, sir?" She spoke mockingly, eyebrow raised.

Eyes swirling with amusment, the man tilted his head to the side, his white tuft of hair following with the motion along with the rest of his curly, brown locks." Mind if I sit here, ma'am?" He replied with a smiliar mocking undertone to his voice.

Clicking her tongue a little, she nodded her head to the chair on her left lazily," Knock yourself out." She droned out, frowning at the sight of her empty glass.

She was too lazy to go to the bar.

'Guess I'll die.' She thought.

"You a wine girl?" Wilbur hummed out curiously, hoping to God she'd say yes otherwise he brought another glass over for no reason and probably looked like a dumbass now-

"I'm an,' anything with alcohol in it' kind of girl." She reassured him.

'Thank fuck.' He hid his relief with sly smile," Ah, a woman after my own heart." He flirted, pouring out a glass of wine for both her and him.

She 'tched' and took the glass," You have a heart? Pfft." She grumbled, taking a long sip of the wine. The wine burned at the back of her throat before bursting into a wonderful grape flavour mixed with cherry." Mm.. Good wine."

"Very good wine." Wilbur nodded in agreement, a content look on his face.

A comfortble silence sat between them and they both decided to enjoy their wine in peace.

(Y/n) watched as Eret and Fundy joined in with Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo. They looked like good friends dancing together. Reminded the girl of how her friendship was with George, Sapnap, Karl and Alex.

Now? It's just her.

She tried to keep the friendship from falling apart, but then Kinoko Kingdom happened and everything went to utter shit.

Las Nevadas, it was wonderful. Paradise. But it wasn't for (Y/n).

So when Quackity had asked if she wanted to join him, she refused respectfully but still said she was willing to help him with whatever he needed at all.

He was flattered, but disappointed at how she had decided against joining Las Nevadas.

She always wonders how her life would've turned out if she had accepted the invite.

"You want to dance?" The question was sudden.

When she looked up at him to see if he was joking, she was surprised to see how serious yet calm his expression was.

Raising an eyebrow, she swirled the wine in her glass and crossed her legs over one another," I'm not very good at dancing."

"And you think I am?"

She gave him a confused look," Aren't you? You look like the kinda guy that would be brilliant at ballroom dancing." She hummed out.

He chuckled raspily, eyes soft," I'm flattered, but trust me, I'm no better at dancing than Tommy." He assured her.

She looked him up and down, unconvinced before she sighed a little, giving in. She was too tired to argue at this point.

She stood up from her chair abruptly, even surprising Wilbur at the fact she had agreed. Giving him a stern yet soft look, she nodded," Let's dance then, Frankenstein."

Then she made her way to the dance floor, making Wilbur scramble from his chair with an eager grin.

They stood facing eachother before Wilbur held his hand to her, a grin tilting onto his lips," May I compliment you on your appearance this evening? You are among the brightest of flowers." He spoke with suave.

The girl blushed and she took his hand quickly, squeezing it a little." No need to flatter me, Wilbur. I am very well aware my dress is rather ugly this evening." She grumbled out grouchily.

He stared directly into her eyes,"Your dress? I hadn't noticed it." He said smoothly, his eyes never left hers," I'm sure it looks amazing on you."

The music began, saving (Y/n) from having to answer. The hand on her waist was firm and soft, almost like it was keeping her safe.

They stepped in line with eachother, (Y/n) messed up every once in a while and managed to step on her own feet and Wilbur's the first couple of minutes before she finally got into the swing of things.

Glaring up at him, she pouted," You liar."

He grinned cheekily at her," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about."

" Whatever you say, Mr. I'm worse than Tommy at dancing." She rolled her eyes.

"I never said I was worse than him. Honestly, anyone can be better than him at dancing. Let's face it."

For the first time that whole night, a small and genuine smile broke out across the girl's lips. Wilbur was enamoured by how her whole face lit up just by the slight tilt of her lips.

She looked beautiful.

"Leave Tommy alone, the kid tries his best." She smiled out.

"He does." He nodded earnestly, a little smile on his lips," I don't deserve him."

"You don't." (Y/n) spoke rather bluntly, but she still had a soft smile on her lips as she spoke her next words," but as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the kid needs you a lot. You're his big brother." She looked at the blonde-haired teen who was laughing at Ranboo who had spilled juice over Tubbo by accident. Her smile widened and her eyes were warm,"... you might just be the luckiest man in the world."

His breath was stolen from him at her words, and he couldnt help but agree with her due to the current circumstances.".... yeah... you could say that."

He held her closer to him by the waist, holding her other hand tightly and securly." So... Where did you learn to dance, Frankenstein?" She teased him, eyes bright with mischief.

A little laugh slipped through his lips," is this the nickname you'll be sticking to now?"

"You know it."

"Oh, great." He sighed out half-disappointedly before he decided to answer her question." When I was younger, my mother used to give me a lot of dance lessons with Technoblade. I requested them because I wanted to learn how to dance for this mermaid girl I had come to befriend."

"Oooh~" the girl raised her eyebrows suggestively," You're pretty romantic when you want to be, you know that?"

He shrugged, cheeks tinted a light pink that was barely noticable," the first time I'm hearing this." He admitted.

"Well... Frankenstein, you're pretty goddamn romantic when you want to be."

He grinned slyly," so you find me romantic, huh? Is that a sign for anything in particular, orrr?..."

The girl snorted a little," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about." She repeated his own words.

He laughed," Touché, touché. You win this round."

Soon, the dance came to an end and the two were left still in eachother's arms, staring at eachother with enamoured looks on their faces.

Then the girl smiled at him," it wouldn't be bold of me to ask for another dance... Would it?" She requested, hope swirling in her gemstone-like irises.

"Not at all," A genuinely happy and charmed grin curled on his lips at her words and he held her body still," thought you would never ask, (Y/n)."

____________________________________________

⚠︎🎰 ༄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲༄🎰⚠︎

(Y/n) hadn't intended to be attending Quackity's party, in fact, she wasn't supposed to be attending.

She wasnt invited.

Supposing this is what she gets for not going along with Alex's whole 'Las Nevadas' gig. She prompted to stay with her friends in Kinoko Kingdom instead, thinking that Quackity wouldve done the same.

But she thought wrong.

So, so incredibly wrong.

You see, have you ever felt the feeling whenever you grow so incredibly close to someone to the point where you think you know them better than anyone else? That's how (Y/n) had felt with Alex. She was so sure that he wouldve chosen her and his friends over some nation that seemed to be setting itself up as a land of secrets and mystery.

From what she's heard, Quackity only grew all the more mysterious and distant.

He was so distant.

(Y/n) couldnt remember the last time she had seen him. The last time she's had a decent conversation.

The last time her heart fluttered around him.

She missed him, truly she did. Sometimes she debated abandoning Kinoko Kingdom in favour of running into Alex's oh-so-welcoming arms.

But her morals told her otherwise. She chose, for once in her life, to not follow her heart. But now, here she was, completely going against what her close friends had told her not to do.

She was being drawn to him again.

Using her heart to make important decisions.

And as she opened the large doors to the ballroom, all time seemed to freeze around her. Eyes shot towards her in curiosity, some with joy at being able to see her again and some with malice.

Alex was no different to the latter.

As soon as his dark eyes had met with her ethereal gemstone-like ones, he felt a buzz of electricity travel up his spine.

He couldnt diferientiate between the feeling of anger and slight awe at her beauty.

The girl fumbled with her fingers awkwardly before she sent him a shy wave, her smile soft-yet panicked as her eyes scanned over his new features.

He looked so different.

And she couldn't tell if it was the good kind of different or not.

At her shy wave, Alex cleared his throat and nodded respectfully as a goodbye to who he was talking to, which thankfully was Sam, and then he began making his way over to (Y/n).

A scowl curled onto his lips, his eyes darker than ever.

The eyes that made her feel warm and safe now froze her down to her very core.

When he was right up to her face, standing in front of her, that's when she knew--

This wasn't the Alex she had fallen in love with.

"What the hell are you doing here..." he muttered lowly to her, he grabbed her bare arm tightly- but it wasnt tight enough to hurt her, surprisingly. Then he dragged her to the exit, shoving her rather roughly outside, shitting the door behind him.

"We-well I-... If I-I'm being completely honest, I didnt exactly have a plan to come here, I just really wanted to see y-" he interrupted her.

"You didnt have a plan?? (Y/n)-- What the actual fuck makes you think I'd ever want you here?!" He was furious, eyes burning a bright fire, a fire even Sapnap couldnt withstand. " I actually cant believe you thought coming here would be a good idea. Are you actually as dumb as you were when we were still talking to eachother? You havent fucking changed."

She flinched at his harsh words but she covered up how hurt she was," Well- if you would let me explain myself, then maybe you'd understand why I'm here."

The casino owner took off his beanie, running a hand through his messy raven locks in frustration before he settled the hat back on his head," Make this damn quick. Because, in case you havent noticed, I have guests to entertain."

Gulping, the girl but her lip nervously out of habit," I know... I know I'm the last person you want to see. I know you hate my guts. But... Alex, I genuinely miss you." She spoke sincerely, eyes glassy beneath the moonlight," when I heard you were throwing this party... I couldnt help myself. I needed to see you... to hear you... to talk. God-- Just listening to you makes me so happy already." Her lip trembled," So please... let me hear you... let me see you. I'm begging... can we please talk?"

Brushing off the rush of heat that crossed his tanned cheeks, Alex looked away from her stubbornly.

He didnt want to give in easily.

But when it came to her, he was always put under a spell.

"Lo que sea.... fine." He sighed out, running a hand over his face in irritation, wincing whenever his fingers brushed over his scar." Come sit over here." He gestured to a bench that sat next to a long river that went off into the ocean, the moon reflected off of the clear water as did the stars.

The two sat next to eachother, the gap between them representing how distant they are from eachother.

"So? Talk." He prompted her, leaning back into the bench rather lazily, looking up at the sky.

Cheeks warming with happiness, she couldnt help but smile at finally being able to talk to him after so long," Thank you so much... I've been wanting to talk to you for so long after everything that happen-... What happened to your eye?" She whispered, suddenly noticing the long scar that ran over his eye and eyelid and then down to his lips.

"Oh yeah- you werent here for that," he jabbed at her," This was all Techno's doing." He gestured all over." Sorry that I'm not the perfect guy that you used to be friends with anymore."

She knew he wasnt sorry.

In fact, she knew that with his new self, he was a lot more confident.

Free.

She liked that.

Smiling at him, she shook her head," dont be silly. If this change makes you happy, then I'm happy."

His heart thumped harshly, making him clear his throat to cover up the noise in case she had heard his loud heart.

"I was just worried but... it looks kind of good on you-- err... not in a weird way or anything." She tried to cover up her slip-up," Anyways... that's not what I came here to talk abou-"

"Do you wanna dance?"

The girl's eyes widened at the sudden suggestion, gazing over Alex's features with shock. His tanned cheeks were red and he was avoiding all eye contact, eyebrows furrowed.

"... come again?" She stuttered out, her throat felt like it was closing up.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes," I asked if you wanted to dance."

The girl's heart did flips in her ribcage as her eyes fluttered,"I-... I would love to." She nodded, wobbly smile on her painted lips.

The man stood from the bench and held a hand out to her, trying his best to not smile when she eagerly grabbed it, stars in her eyes.

He moved her soft hand to his neck, making it rest there, (Y/n) then moved her other arm to wrap around his neck as well. Alex then settled his calloused hands on her pretty waist, pulling her body close to him.

He was afraid she would slip away from him again.

In truth, he had missed a hell of a lot as well, maybe even more so than she missed him.

He always debated visiting her or arranging to meet up with her, but his plans always got in the way and blurred his desire for her.

But seeing her tonight, all dressed up for him, it made him want to fall in love with her all over again.

The two swung side to side, the faint music from the ballroom guiding the two of them. Quackity rested his chin on top of her head as the girl turned her head to the side, resting her ear against his chest and listening to his thumping heartbeat.

"You look amazing." He muttered to her.

"You too... well... yeah, no you look amazing."

He chuckled lightly," why'd you hesitate?"

"Well... I wanted to think of a better word for amazing but my heart is beating too loudly for me to think properly..." she admitted.

At her heartfelt confession, Alex felt himself smile warmly for once in a long time.

He felt like a teenager in love again.

"Yeah... I feel that too." He muttered, inhaling the scent of her vanilla shampoo, biting off the dreamy sigh that threatened to spill from his lips." (Y/n)... why didnt you join me? "

The dreaded question.

"If I'm being honest... I thought you wouldve joined Kinoko Kingdom with me."

Quackity's heart clenched at the thought.

So she felt just as betrayed as he did, that makes sense to him now.

"I debated going to join Las Nevadas everyday, but I knew that meant leaving George, Sap and Karl and I felt so conflicted and just... horrible." She mumbled, feeling her eyes beginning to water," It was hard, Alex.... I wanted to see you so so bad... But I also wanted to be a good friend... I felt like I was the bad guy either way, and I just wanted to make both parties happy.... I hated being away from you... God... I hated it so much." She sniffled, making Alex pull her closer to him," seeing you now... you dont understand how happy it makes me feel..."

The man sighed a little and kissed leaned away from her, cupping her cheek and then moving it so she was face him. He tilted her head up a little so he could see her teary eyes, feeling his heart call out to her to comfort her.

He ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away the mascara and tears and when she blinked up at him innocently, he couldnt stop himself from smiling down at her reassuringly.

"I wanted to see you so much as well... I felt my heart ache every night to see you..." he began, pressing his forehead against hers," I'm sorry for treating you like shit... you deserve so much damn better... (Y/n), I'm begging. Please stay with me, will you?"

Her breath hitched.

"Stay by my side... please?"

Her heart stopped.

"I want to be with you all the time."

Her tears stopped falling.

"I love you."

And she smiled, wider than she ever has.

"I've been waiting so long to hear that..." She whispered to him," I love you too, Alex."

He grinned down at her crookedly," Deadass?"

"On god."

"Fuck- I'm not dreaming, right?" He then had a mischievous glint twinkle in his dark eyes," Maybe you should kiss me to seal the deal?"

She snorted," you're asking me to initiate it? Dont you think you're moving a bit fast, lover boy?"

"I think you're moving too slow and that you talk too much." He stated simply before he leaned down, capturing her soft lips in a messy kiss, their lips molding together as soon as they came in contact.

It's the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

His hands flattened against her back... and she was up on the tips of her toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing her... He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud...

And as her lips rubbed against his chapped ones, she knew her life was set with his, nobody else.

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

[noritoshiikamo]

So for the request, I know that he is a curse and they are supposed to be bad but I swear Choso is a sweetheart and I'd die for him. He deserves to be loved and taken care of. Soo Can I have a drabble with him, his wife reader and maybe a lil son/daughter? Some domestic shit, like uhh brushing and braiding each other's hair, cooking, cuddling etc.

This all cane to my mind after this:

ANYWAYS I'D DO ANYTHING FOR HIM UWUU🥺

hana

part 3 of ? husband choso series uGH SOFT CHOSO AND LITTLE BROTHER YUJI jkfwrhfkbf anyway here's some soft husband choso with a kid I HOPE THIS IS ENOUGH DOMESTIC CHOSO FOR YOU also beware at the ending, slightly suggestive because it's me, i like smut LOL anyway ENJOY!!

it started with two faint lines on the night of her graduation.

he was still in her robe and mortarboard, flipping the tiny tassel front and back amusingly. they came home from a night of celebrating but despite holding a master’s degree in one hand and another around his bicep, she was upset. knowing his wife well, he decided to not bring it up until they were home, trying his best to cheer her up before offering to drive her home and called it a night after 2 hours into the party.

she wasn’t the only one with a piece of paper to flex; choso now has a driving license.

she kicked her heels off and immediately disappeared into the bathroom, slamming it shut. folding the robe gently on the chair along with the cap, he put the electric kettle on and pulled out two cups with the intent to make sure that she'll have a cup of warm calming tea ready to sober up. his fingers tapped the marble countertop, wondering if he should go and knock on the door. he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cupboard. his mind roamed around, the sound of the kettle hissing was loud, but his mind snapped when he heard his name.

“choso,” she called out.

he turned around instantly. his wife held up a stick, where there was two faint red lines in the small window. choso’s face scrunched in confusion. “what does that mean? are you having a fever?” he asked, which she laughed with tears streaming down her face. he was immediately by her side, concerned by her sudden outburst of emotions, pulling her in his arms and asking if she was alright. she couldn’t help but to laugh even louder when she heard him talking about how weird this thermometer is and how does one read it. she cupped his face and focused him to her.

his eyes widened as her lips moved; “i’m pregnant.”

“what?”

“my friend told me i look bloated. asked me if i was finally letting it go, and not care about my weight anymore and asked what did i eat to gain a lot of fat since she wanted to do the same. and then another asked me if i was pregnant. so yeah, i figured why not and hey, look,” she took his hand and rested gently on her belly, “so now, i have little human in me.”

and that was 5 years ago.

she couldn’t help to smile as she watched the little pitter patter of their tiny human, screaming as she ran around the sofa, with a clearly exhausted but still giggling choso on her trails. “she doesn’t want to wear her pants,” he whined, pouting at the mom before returning to the tiny human, “baby, come on. please put on your pants.” like she had understood his every word, the toddler shook her head, giggling with drools down her face.

hana is the name given to their firstborn.

she’s mixed of them; locks of black hair that was always up in two tiny buns like her father and her mother’s beautiful eyes. she hadn’t shown any possibility of carrying his cursed gene, something they both had been so grateful enough when they first confirmed their pregnancy, but that doesn’t stop the child from possibly continuing her family line of sorcerer. something they’ve been keeping their eyes out ever since she’d turn 3.

“you need help, choso?”

“no, no, i got this. just, give me a minute and i’ll give you your child with perfectly worn pants.”

the child shrieked as the father got closer and ran straight into the protective arm of the mother. “got em!” she held the child up to the father. "nooo," hana cried when she realised her mistake. she pouted, willingly letting her father put the pants over her diaper. finally, choso sighed mentally.

“dada,” she called out, holding her hands out to choso. “yeah, yeah, come here,” he smiled, happily taking his little bundle of joy, gently tugging on her tiny nose, “hana, why is it so hard for me to catch you huh?” he complained to the little one and the wife returned to the stove, ears couldn’t help but to listen to them.

every time choso talks, she would listen attentively before reply with gibberish of english and japanese which her father would’ve thrown his hand up and be like exactly! see only you would understand me, child, and she’ll nod with a laugh, as if she understands everything.

their house has been everything but quiet ever since she came into their life.

she didn’t understand his obsession with the name hana and why she had agreed on it. possibly because they didn’t even pick any names yet at all up to the night where her water broke. they didn’t even know what the gender was; something they had agreed on to wait until the birth. so, at that point, she was willing to agree with anything if it meant choso would’ve shut up. “it has a lot of meaning, look!” he held the ipad to her face as she was easing into her fifth contraction of the night. “choso,” she let out a weak cry, “will you shut up if i say yes?” he laughed, nodding before bringing his hand up to his lips, planting kisses after kisses.

when the last push birthed her a daughter and the doctor placed the bloody crying baby in her arms, from the sparse black locks and the hopeful eyes of it, she just knew that hana is the perfect name for it. her tiny smile alone was enough to cure her exhaustion away from the 20 hours of labour .

without her, there isn't any point of life for both of them.

a pair of arms around her waist pulled her back to reality; she felt heads resting on both of her shoulders. “is dinner ready? you need help, mama?” he asked, pressing a kiss on her cheek; something hana instantly picked up and followed. the mother giggled at the feeling of their wet lips against her cheeks, “almost. would you mind airing her rice out? i don’t want it to be too hot for her.”

“yes, mother,” he teased leaving the wife alone with the child in his left arm.

choso has been the better parent than her; understandably due to her busy schedule despite her being hana’s favourite. she couldn’t remember any time where she woke up to a crying hana and choso didn’t shoot out of the bed instantly, feet running towards their daughter’s crib. “i got it, don’t worry. sleep, you have work tomorrow,” he shooed her away, rubbing the child’s back with his huge hand, whispering dada’s here. something unspoken between them was that he gets hana for the weekdays, and she gets hana for the weekend.

“anyway,” her train of thoughts halted, “her uncle yuji agreed to take hana in for the weekend. don’t worry, kugisaki is going to be there, so hana should be fine.” she smiled as he pressed a kiss on her cheeks, marching towards the dinner table. hana’s ears perked up at the mention of yuji, her favourite uncle and she squealed, calling out for choso’s little brother’s name excitedly. “yayy, uuji, uuji!” he placed her in the baby seat, tightening the seatbelt before handling her a piece of cut off fruit which she eagerly sucked on.

he was back, latching desperately onto her. “finally, a weekend just the two of us,” he sighed against her ear; his chest rested against her back. away from her daughter’s line of view, he planted a kiss on her neck while his free hand roamed under her shirt. a little oh came out of his lips as he realised she was completely bare underneath the thin shirt.

her chest fluttered at the way he looked at her; she could see a hint of lust in his dark eyes and his smile carried a different meaning. her cheeks instantly flushed, and she found herself clenching on nothingness.

weekend could not reach fast enough.