#I will never relive this but it was funny while I saw it

[dakyarie]

[yoongelectric]

the lost files - lando norris

— let me photograph you in this light in case it is the last time

genre: established relationship, fluff, smut, angst

Something you noticed right away when you started dating Lando was that he was one of those people who always carried their camera with themselves. Every time he saw a beautiful sunset, or a cute dog, or went out to dinner, he'd take a picture. If his friends were doing something funny, or his family was getting together, or while his mechanics were working on his car, he'd take a picture.

It was something you always admired about him: his ability to capture every moment worth having in life. During your walks, you'd always hear the phrase "y/n, wait, that looks sick, let me take a picture." And you'd frequently find him transferring the photos from his camera to his laptop so he wouldn't lose any. All the good memories were saved on that computer's hard drive, allowing him to relive them whenever he wanted.

This habit of his, of course, translated into your relationship. Sometimes, he'd ask you to pose while you showed him your outfit of the day, insisting that you shouldn't be shy. Other times, he'd just take pictures of you without you even noticing while you were doing any daily thing. Obviously, there were mirror photos or selfies whenever he felt like you didn't have enough together, even if he never took pictures with anyone other than you.

You remember the first time. You hadn't even put a label on what you had, but you'd already been on so many dates, so many that you were at that point where just each other's company was enough. You'd go to his house to watch a movie or eat together, or take a nap, or just do nothing at all, but always looking for an excuse to be together. That day, mid july, you were cuddled up on the couch staring at the fireplace, you were lying between his legs with your back against his chest, the soft murmur of the flames being the only thing that broke the silence as Lando caressed your hair. You felt him leave a kiss on your temple before carefully getting up, trying to disturb you as little as possible, although the sudden lack of warmth pulled you out of your bliss.

"Where are you going?" you asked with a pout that Lando was dying to kiss

"I'm just going to get some snacks so we can watch a movie." He took your face between his hands, leaving a soft peck on your lips.

It didn't take long. You heard his footsteps approaching until he stopped in front of you, but he didn't move. He just watched you with a tender smile on his face. You started to move to allow him to return to his previous spot, but he quickly stopped you.

"No, no, stay still. Let me go get my camera."

"Why?" You asked, confused.

"You look pretty in the firelight. I just want a picture of my girlfriend."

Time seemed to stop. Lando froze in place, and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry, I just... forget I said anything."

You laughed softly before taking his hand and making him lie down with you again. "Iando, you can call me your girlfriend, and you can take all the pictures you want."

You felt his body relax beside you as he slipped an arm around your waist. "Really? I thought maybe you thought it was too soon."

You shook your head before grabbing the camera he'd left on the table and snapping a picture of the two of you.

You smiled, looking at the image on the screen. "I just wanted a picture with my boyfriend."

-

The sound of engines filled your ears. You saw mechanics and engineers walking back and forth, surely with the same pressure in their chests that you felt, you hated coming to the races. Anxiety ate you up completely, and you only felt like you were distracting your boyfriend, you had only came to a couple and had never shown yourself in front of the fans since your relationship was a secret to the public. But Lando had asked you again and again to attend, assuring you that far from being a distraction, he needed you for support today.

So you gave him the pleasure, you knew how important this race was for him to feel confident with himself and the car again after some disappointing Sundays. There were only 2 laps left in the race, and Lando was leading by a good margin. However, you felt your heart racing in your chest and knew it wouldn't calm down until your boyfriend had the trophy in his hands.

"You know, no matter the outcome, the most important thing to me is that he has your support. I see him much happier when you're around," Lando's father told you softly, seeing how nervous you were.

"Do you really think so?" You tried to hide the grin that threatened to appear on your face.

"yeah i not only see it, he told me. You really mean a lot to him. he’s been thinking about inviting you for weeks."

"Maybe I should come more often, then," you joked before looking at the screen that showed your boyfriend crossing the finish line in first place.

After all the fuss of greetings, hugs, and the podium, you finally had some time to relax and get together: the team, your friends, Lando's family, Lando and you. And in the middle of all the talking, Lando had an idea.

"Dad, Dad, hold the trophy. I want a picture with y/n." He handed the trophy to his father before grabbing you by the waist, positioning himself for the photo.

"Keep the trophy. You just won a race, Lando..." You spoke, confused, not understanding why he wouldn't want the proof of his success in the photo.

"I have a ton of pictures with the trophy. I want a picture with you. It's important to me that you're here today, you know?"

-

Your head sank into the pillows, your legs tangled around Lando's waist as his hips pounded against yours in an insatiable rhythm.

"Oh my god, just like that, please, Lando."

Your boyfriend straightened up, moving your legs from his waist to his shoulders so he could go deeper, harder and harder, making your head spin with pleasure.

"y/n, I love you so much. You look so beautiful like this."

His words, his hands on you, and the way his cock reached deep inside you were sending you into a bliss you couldn't escape. All you could think about was Lando.

"Baby, I'm so close. Please, can I?" you managed to say between moans

Lando leaned down to kiss your neck, leaving wet marks from your earlobe to your collarbones. "Yes, darling, cum for me."

Your climax hit you hard, your back arched, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Every word you knew disappeared from your mind. All you could do was moan and scream his name, over and over again. Lando's movements didn't stop, only slowed down, letting you catch your breath.

When he noticed you'd come back to your senses, he pulled away, turning you over so your chest was on the bed before sliding his cock between your buttocks and starting to move again. "You drive me crazy, you know that? You're it for me."

In no time, Lando was reaching his high too, jerking himself off a few times before cumming all over your ass and back. He leaned down to place kisses on your shoulders and neck while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you, I love you, I love you. You're the love of my life, y/n."

And as he took a second to admire the mess he'd made of you, he couldn't help but groan and bite his lower lip at the sight.

"God, you're so hot. Let me take a picture of this."

"Lando..."

"It's just for me, I promise... for when I'm traveling... please?"

"Okay, but you have to promise to show me when you use it."

Lando laughed softly at your words. "Deal. You're the best."

-

You were sitting on the shore of the beach when you felt Lando's presence by your side. In his eyes, you were always the most beautiful girl in the world, but today, today, there was a special glow about you. He didn't know if it was the waves that naturally formed in your hair from the sea salt, or the tan that spread across your body after so many days of sunbathing, or how well the red of the bikini you were wearing looked on your skin tone, or how focused you looked watching the sunset and how the colors reflected on you, but Lando couldn't take his eyes off you.

"Pretty, right?" You spoke without taking your eyes off the horizon, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, really beautiful," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, knowing damn well that you were talking about completely different things.

"I always watch sunsets, but there's something about the way they look at the beach that makes them better..." You paused for a moment. "Did you bring your camera? You should take a picture of it; something so beautiful deserves to be remembered."

"Yes, you're right," he said as he took the camera out of his backpack and took a picture of you, taking you by surprise.

"Stop it, I'm all disheveled and without makeup today."

"What? You said something so beautiful deserves to be remembered."

-

but none of that mattered now, not a single one of those moments, as he selected all the photos from the "y/n" folder on his pc ready to delete all those memories, because no matter that when he saw each of the images his eyes filled with tears and no matter how much he would give to go back to those moments, you were no longer in his life, those memories were worthless because no matter how much of himself he had given to you and how much love for you was inside him, you had decided that you wanted someone else and he couldn't do anything about it, so as he gave a last view at his relationship with you he cursed himself for having saved so many memories that now made it impossible for him to forget you

notes: i’m backk did you miss me??. english isn’t my first language so feel free to correct me

[liesandspookyfairytales]

hi I saw your ask was open and wanted to know, what’s your take on poly!141 x reader(also in 141) who gets slightly injured on a mission(can be a bullet graze/a semi-deep wound/sprained body part, anything you think) and they kinda overreact a lot about the injury. Mothering reader like no other? I think it would be funny fluff!! Thank you, for your time <3

(picture unrelated)

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader Word Count: 583 A/N: HII!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! Hope you enjoy ❤️

The moment after he checks on you after you get hurt during a mission, Simon starts hunting for the person who did it. He gets all scary and threatening. He truly lives up to his name. Once he finds whoever hurt you, he’ll hurt them. He injures them, one for every injury they inflicted on you. (Maybe he’ll even bring you at trophy of your attacker, if you’re into that)

When John hears your cry of pain over the comms, he’s making his way toward you. He won’t let anything stop him from getting to you and when he’s found you, he’s commanding everyone around him, only letting the other 141 get close to you. He’ll tell Kyle what to do, tell Johnny to go with Simon to make sure the masked man doesn’t get reckless.

Kyle’s heart stops when he sees you get hurt. It might sound cheesy, but in a flash he relives all the memories he has with you. Your smile, the way you laugh, how your hand feels in his, the way he never gets tired of touching you, hugging you, kissing you. He runs over to you and almost cries of relief when he sees that it’s only a slight injury. But it’s still too much in his opinion. John will order him to take a look at your injury, because after you, he has the most medical knowledge.

Johnny starts cursing when he sees you get hurt, his Scottish accent getting thick. Nobody can understand what he’s saying and eventually, they stop trying. After checking on you, he’ll leave you in the care of John and Kyle and goes with Simon to hunt down whoever did it. It doesn’t matter to him that it’s not a dangerous injury. Anyone who hurts his bonnie lass deserves death. 

When you’re back home, Kyle and Johnny take mothering to a whole new level. It doesn’t matter that you don’t need to recover, they’ll handcuff you onto the bed if they have to.

If your injury is somewhere on your torso, Johnny will chastise you if you move too much while breathing. He’ll want you to stop breathing because he’s scared you’ll be in pain (Simon whacks him and not so kindly reminds him that you kinda need to breathe if you want to stay alive). I wholeheartedly believe that he wouldn’t want to let you go to the bathroom on your own. He’ll insist on being in there with you because what if you fall, or you need my help?

Kyle won’t let you lift a finger. He’ll check on you every five minutes. He’ll bring you everything you want, the only thing you need to do is stay in bed. You want something specific from all the way on the other side of the city (they live in London in my hc’s). It doesn't matter if it takes all day, he’ll get it for you.

John and Simon are more level headed.

John just relaxes with you. He’ll still worry and mother you, but not as much as the sergeants. He lets you do your thing, while still keeping a close eye on you. He’ll definitely kiss it better if you’d ask to.

Simon will act like he’s your bodyguard. To anyone else it would be absolutely terrifying, but to you (and the other 141 when he does it to them) it’s oddly comforting. It’s reassurance that he’s there for you, that he loves you, that he supports you.

[pinkteethmarks]

just saw the valentines event ooo

aizawa with “can’t get you” by jaehyun 💗

a million times yes!! (btw this song is so fucking good omg) gosh lowkey had fun writing this but wtv, i hope you like it, sorry it’s quite long 🙁 (2.4k words…) but yeah! gender neutral pronouns and no mention of any anatomy or anything like that. reader is hella cheery and giggly. mention of age gap and mention of hawks bc i love him. i use first names for everyone bc like idk makes it more intimate (maybe im crazy idk). fluff only, lots of mentions of aizawa being old(and one all might old joke) (also implied all might x inko sos thought it was funny)i think that’s it, if you really don’t like this or wasn’t really what you thought it was don’t hesitate to tell me and i will happily rewrite! just put it in the requests so i can see it ❤️ thank you for this again!!!

can’t get you; shouto aizawa

in which this old man cannot stop fawning over you and your glow, you’re stuck on his mind and etched into his soul - thank goodness his friends can help him finally confess.

glimmering rays peaked through class 2A’s windows, the summer heat circulating through the room making the students and their teacher groggy alike. the petals of cherry blossoms could be caught wafting around aimlessly, as if looking for a host to reside on. the chirps from the birds indicated that it was an early morning, their melodies playing a symphony for U.A.

shouta wanted so badly to crawl into his sleeping bag, but he knew that he, at least, had to get through one lesson before rewarding his fatigued body.

“the science behind your quirks is very important for executing them, for instance, someone like-“

a knock from the door interrupted him, he looked from his position into the sliver of glass in the door, only to see you.

shouta freezed up at your appearance, why were you are his door? is this it? are you coming here because you feel the same way he does? does he smell? do his classmates smell?

as his head filled with uncharacteristically ridiculous notions, you had already opened the door, saying a quick hi to his students, you were always cheerful like that, never failing to flash a smile and a wave to anyone.

that smile has been ingrained into his being, if you were to rip out his heart and dissect it, the matter of his soul would be like a mosaic of you, fragments your of that included your smile, your eyes, your cute yet hard to miss laugh. shouta’s mind was a documentary about you, one that he binged religiously in hopes of reliving his desire to be with you, even if it’s only for a minute, even if it’s only a figment of his imagination.

“-outa? hello, did you hear me?” you laughed, snapping him out of his daily programmed thoughts of you.

“h-huh? y-yeah sorry, what did you say?” shouta slightly stuttered, a small blush on his cheeks which he hide as he turned his head away in embarrassment.

i mean, for god sakes he was damn near forty and was blushing heavily because you were standing a little too close for comfort. he’s acting like he’s 16 again, but even then, he never acted like this around anyone else.

you really were special to him.

“i was just asking if i could take some paper for 3A, we’re doing a mind map project!” you asked, already making your way to his drawers on the side - you knew shouta would say yes, he’s never said no to you.

“yeah sure, do what you want. you baby that class too much though, they should be patrolling.” shouta feigned nonchalance, even though he would run the ends of the earth just to give you anything you’ve ever wanted.

“oh stop! i want them to be comfortable with their identity as a hero first before going onto the streets.” you giggled, a wad of A3 sheets in your arms now.

“you damn hippie, by the time they get onto the streets, they’ll be too lazy to do anything.” shouta sighed, while he respected you as a teacher and the love of his life with an ethereal face, gorgeous body and flamboyant personality that contrasts his doom and gloom, he truly was worried of the third years not understanding the importance of patrolling with you prolonging it.

“it’s not like they’ve never patrolled, i still make them do it once a week. it’s just, an incident happened with one of the students which made them lose their confidence in their skills. so i’m making them do a self love mind map!” you beamed.

shouta starred at you, amazed at your emotional intelligence and your ability to make everyone feel better within seconds. maybe that was your quirk, being the face of positivity and making old men become love sick fools that would kiss your feet.

“wow y/n! you’re so cool!” ashido laughed out.

“we never get to do anything like that!” grumbled denki.

“literally all we do it’s train.” hanta sighed

“i wanna be as positive as you when im a hero!” izuku called out.

“silly, you guys already are hero’s!” you giggled.

“stop making this so positive, they’ll get complacent and think that this is the peak of hero life.” shouta grumbled, pretending that your radiance wasn’t the reason he fell for you in the first place.

“you grumpy old man! anyways, i need to go before my class starts causing mayhem, bye 2A, bye shouta.” you smiled before leaving the class, shouta’s eyes never once leaving you as you walked away.

his heart was beating faster than ever before, his hands became clammy as hell- fuck, was it that hot in here? he’s now tugging on the cloth around his neck.

“sir, you’re blushing like crazy.” denki giggles, causing the class to start laughing at their teacher.

shouta turns more red in response, rolling his eyes to cover his embarrassment but his students could see right through them.

“shut up y/n- wait, i mean-“ sadly, after he said that, it was over for him.

the class’s laughter rose to volumes even present mic couldn’t reach, with a mixture of whistling and ‘oooh’s thrown in to further taunt him.

“quiet down.” shouta used to his quirk, his eyes turning red and his hair flying around.

the class immediately quieted down, they know that shouta was not the one to be played with.

shouta, kayama, yagi and yamada sat in the staff room, the three of them joking about whatever nonsense their kids were up to while shouta stayed listening, pretending to annoyed by the chatter while a small smile rested on his face.

“-and then, out of no where, young bakugou punches young midoriya, and i was just shocked because where the hell did he even come from?!” yagi’s face looked dripped in stress as he told this story, kayama and yamada laughing along heartily while shouta chuckled softly as he remembered that story.

“lord, class 2A sure is something! i honestly thought something naughty was going on between them.” kayama smirks as she says that.

“dude what, they literally go at each other heads all the time! ever since they came back from summer holidays, izuku has been hurling back all of katsuki’s insults!” yamada rebutted.

“enemies to lovers, bully to lovers and rivals to lovers is all im hearing right now!” kayama says in a sing-song tone.

“trust me, if you want something that may happen, you should look between young uraraka and young midoriya” yagi says with a lower tone.

they all (minus shouta whose been knowing this would happen) gasped.

“you guys haven’t noticed? izuku always starts blushing like hell and stuttering anytime ochako comes around him.” shouta adds on.

“i’ve never noticed it!” kayama says disappointedly.

“it’s hilarious, she could come up and say hi and he freezes up while looking down at his work or some shit.” shouta laughs.

“who freezes up?” you came out of nowhere.

shouta freezes up again, it’s honestly like he can’t escape you from both his mind and real life.

a pink dust starts sprinkling itself on his cheeks as he looks straight ahead, not trusting himself to look at your beautiful face without having a full on panic attack.

“u-um we were just talking about izuku and ochako.” shouta mutters while leaning back in his chair, pretending he was simply relaxing instead of panicking over you speaking to him.

yagi, yamada and kayama all look at each other before starring between the two of you, looking at shouta suspiciously with his sudden ‘wannabe cool boy’ demeanour.

“oh! not to be a gossip but you wouldn’t believe the things i’ve heard about them.” you giggled, talking a seat. next to shouta.

you were so close, your mouth was practically next to your ear (you were not that close, he’s just imagining things).

“well you better spill!” yamada cackled.

“you’re so loud.” shouta rolled his eyes.

“i think it’s nice how loud he is, no room for confusion!” you smiled, there you go again, making the best out of everything.

shouta looked at you, smiling at you as you spoke about how you heard about some party and izuku taking ochako somewhere or whatever, he really didn’t care for that, seeing you speak with so much passion, joy and compassion really just made him fall in love with you even more.

“but who knows?” you innocently say as if you didn’t drop the biggest development for the izuocha-teacher-movement.

“young midoriya has game!” yagi laughed

“you’re an old man, respect yourself.” shouta replied.

“he’s right though, i didn’t know he had it in him to make a move at a party nonetheless!” kamaya smiled.

“well anyways, i really want to try this lunch place, will anyone come with me?” you asked.

“i will.” shouta said almost immediately which didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

“are you sure? it’s quite far and i don’t have my car so you would have to drive.” you mentioned, knowing that shouta was lazy as hell. getting him to do a task not listed in his job requirements usually needs an army.

“it’s fine, i’ll go anywhere with you.” shouta spoke softly, causing everyone, including you, to look at him skeptically.

“shit, as in, well- i just meant that uh…” shouta fumbled over his words, his face turning even redder than before. he truly believes this is karma for making fun of izuku.

“alright honey, i’ll meet you by your car in 10 minutes, still got a few things to set out.” you laughed it off.

shouta’s eyes widened at the nickname and stared at your figure as you walked off, admiring your every move as though you were magnetic, his heart beating ferociously with every step you took.

“ok, now, what was that!?” yamada asked demandingly as soon as you were out of sight.

“oh my god, you’re so loud.” shouta deflected.

“you aren’t getting out of this one aizawa sensei, you’re in love with them!” kamaya’s eyes glistened as she said that.

“no i’m not, can a man not have friends?” shouta sighed and lied like nobody’s business.

“LMAO, nice one, you defo wanna bang them sho!” yamada teased, causing shouta to blush like crazy.

“i’m actually just speechless, i’ve never seen you get so… pathetic.” yagi stifled a chuckled.

“who the hell are you calling pathetic? do you not remember the incident with izuku’s mom?” shouta smirked.

“my bad.” yagi kept silent as the others looked at him skeptically once more.

“we will definitely come to that later, but gosh can we get back to how he was blushing like crazy when they first came!” kamaya spoke with an amazed tone.

“oo! or when he stuttered and stared at them the whole time?” yamada added on.

“or even when he said ‘ill go anywhere with you’ as though they were leaving forever?” yagi cackled.

“you guys are annoying, i don’t like them or whatever you guys think. i think of them just like anyone else would.” shouta replied, rolling his eyes.

“alright then, hawks did mention wanting to ask them out. makes sense as well, they are more closer in age than you two are.” yamada smugly replies.

“what? where did you hear this?” shouta replied instantly, his eyes widening.

“LOL got you!” yamada laughed loudly.

“yeah alright whatever, you chronically online fool.” shouta huffed out in annoyance.

“you should ask them out! they are always talking about you anyways.” yagi advises.

“they do?” shouta looked at yagi curiously.

“yeah, always asking what you’re doing or just mentioning you in conversation. i tried to ask if they were into you flat out but they deflected the question so i dropped it.” yagi continues.

shouta looks straight ahead of him, his brows furrowing in confusion as he thought about what yagi was implying.

did you, want him?

fuck, just thinking about it makes his heart swell and turns the background chatter into a cheesy romcom song.

“look at how you’re blushing! come on, it’s clearly that you’re both into each other so ask them out! for once you can spend valentines with someone that’s isn’t a cat.” kamaya giggled.

“i enjoy my single life thank you very much, but i will ask them out.” shouta replied.

the three of them started cheering for him as he thought deeper about what was about to happen, in 10 minutes, you could either be his or a forced distant memory.

fuck, he really was too old for this shit.

you two finally arrived to the place, it was a fancy ramen place that looked as though it would be more popular during the night scene - however this made it so now, during the day, it was practically empty, more intimate.

honestly, it was like the universe was just egging him on.

even the interior had romantic undertones, with all the valentines decorations and romance inspired special dishes plastered everywhere that he lowkey wanted to try with you.

you both took your seat in a booth across from one another and you took a look at the menu already set out in front of you on your table.

“this place would be lovely for a date.” you hummed out cheerily

shouta looked at you confusingly, what the hell was that supposed to mean?

was this a date?

“well, if you want it to be then..” you answered back bashfully.

“shit, i didn’t mean to say that out loud. wait, what?” shouta was processing too many things at once.

“y/n, are you… do you..?” shouta couldn’t find the words to say it but you knew exactly what he was trying to say.

“depends on how you feel about me.” you leaned forward onto the table, more confidence slipping into your system even though you were a nervous wreck on the inside.

shouta’s eyes widened upon realisation, his breathing quickened slightly as he took in everything happening. this was it, this was the moment he dreamed for, this was his opening to finally get the dream - no - reality that was now within reach.

“alright, well here goes.” shouta clears his throat and puts down his menu, you follow suit.

“y/n, i’m gonna be honest here, you’re someone i cannot stop thinking about. it’s like, you’re in my system or something, it’s annoying as hell but i’m not all that bothered. i like thinking about you, you make me feel… i don’t know what the word is but it’s new, fresh and beautiful. i guess i’ve been into you for a while, which i think has been quite obvious and you’re honestly the only person i’ve ever felt like this for, so im not completely sure what im doing here. but when im with you, you make me feel fuzzy and warm and all the weird things that make you happy and shit. i guess, what im trying to say is that i… love you y/n. probably have for a good year or so. so, please, it would be my pleasure to take you out on a date or something.” shouta spilled all of his feelings in front of you, leaving you shocked with his proclamation.

shouta’s heart was there on a platter, beating violently as the inscribed words that he had just spoken out were spilled out like ancient secrets.

you reached over the table, grabbing his cloth to pulled him closer to you and pressed his lips onto yours, all in a flash.

at first, it was still, you both were absorbing each others warmth, until shouta finally started moving, his lips guiding yours as they stayed stuck onto one another. almost as though your lips were two opposite poles that stayed stuck together.

your lips matched perfectly, fitting like two puzzle pieces intricately designed to only accept each others shape. everything felt so right, the same feeling you get when you fit the last block in a wooden box - completion.

the sound of lips smacking as shouta gently put his hand of your face, both your eyes fully close and immersing in the moment.

after a hearty moment, you pulled away slowly whilst opening your eyes. shouta’s eyes were half lidded and drunk on you.

“i love you too shouta, my favourite grump.” you giggled.

he rolled his eyes in response but smiled because finally, everything was in place.

he got you out of his system, and into reality. you were finally his and his only.

[4zahar]

01 | A stranger is stargazing

←Prologue. Masterlist. Next→

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: English is not my first language. This was going to be way longer but then I saw the word count and chopped it off. I have zero imagination. Used chatgpt to translate some Spanish phrases because in English they use similar terms but different meanings. Also, my birthday falls is coming up so it's gonna be a funny last week of vacations.

The knock on the door pulled you from your daze, snapping your attention away from the stains on the ceiling.

Outside the only window in the apartment, barred as all must be, the sky hung a deep, polluted red, with clouds stretching far into the distance. Blue-ish if you squint your eyes. You, as one far too used to the sights, needed not to look at no clock's way to know this to be an unholy hour to bother someone. The thing was broken anyway and the lack of light filtering through was telltale enough.

It was clear, however, that someone disagreed with the concept of appropriate visiting hours. Despite your irritation, you silently hoped it wasn’t who you thought of first knocking at the door��because reliving another nightmare firsthand was the last thing you could handle after an already exhausting day. The familiar fear of being alone at night when an unexpected knock shattered the silence wasn’t something you’d grown up with instinctively, as others might. No, this was a fear learned the hard way, carved into you by mistakes you committed.

Alarm bells rang deafening while you stare frozen. You found it almost cruel when everything stayed as still as you at the faintest reminder of the last time you heard knocking. Like a punishment to yourself the shelves and mess had been kept neat, framing a stop in time on your doorstep. Back then, one of the other residents had barged in, leaving you shaken—hunted by the tickling feeling of his breath on your neck when you hadn’t turned around soon enough.

You forced yourself to push the thought away, though it lingered. A ghostly feeling clung to you, far longer than you were willing to admit to yourself, when another knock shattered your fragile composure. The sound was louder this time, sharper, snapping you back into the present. Startled, you leapt to your feet, knocking over the ashtray on the armrest with your rushed and unsteady movements. An horribly loud clatter echoed against the walls for seconds too long after falling to the floor, scattering ash and ceramic across the oppressive silence. The noise startled a hiss out of you, as though the sudden disruption physically hurt.

Out of the corner of your eye, an aluminum baseball bat tucked neatly among the umbrellas by the door. It waited in its place—only silent and steady reassurance for your burning hands.

Had the thought not been so disturbingly visceral, you would have entertained the idea of describing what you felt as a hand twisting your guts as you marched toward the door. But the imagery was too grotesque to entertain, so you buried it and kept moving.

Two locks clicked open unnaturally loud. The third lock, a flimsy chain, dangled just in front of your forehead. Not much of a safeguard, but it gave you the illusion of control even knowing the thin wood wouldn’t hold if it came to a struggle.

But what you braced for never came.

On the other side of the door, the menacing face you dreaded wasn’t there. No menacing glare from fish-like, ogling eyes.

Instead, a boy. Smaller than you.

Even more fragile-looking.

It was almost embarrassing how much taller you had expected the visitor to be. Instead, you found yourself slowly—almost comically—looking down at a face twisted in a grimace, like the boy had just sucked on a lemon.

If there was anything that could have thrown you off more in this moment, you couldn’t think of it. Then came like being hit by a train the realization of your own disheveled appearance: some pale, sickly, and worn thin girl. For looking less like a witch had others been burned. Still, you forced a smile—awkward and out of place in your face. Apparently, not beating those imaginary witch-allegations in your head, smiling wasn’t the right move in a dimly lit hallway in the dead of night.

Wonder why the boy’s expression shifted almost instantly from startled surprise to wide-eyed panic as your gazes met. Both pairs of blue eyes locked onto each other, mirrors to one another.

He was drenched, water dripping from a hoodie too big for him, which clung awkwardly to his small frame. The soaked fabric looked heavy for his noddle arms. A busted lip stood out starkly for being the kind of injury that screamed ‘street-kid’ in this side of the country. Easy—normal, even—to assume a fight was the cause. Maybe at home. Maybe over food with other kids.

Wait. It was raining outside?

“I... I’m your brother,” he stammered, words tumbling out in a rush. His face crumpled almost immediately, tears welling up as if he wanted to cry. You guessed from cringing so hard.

His words, anxious and unsteady, made it hard to process what he’d said, let alone empathize. This you blinked dumb-ly. Once. Twice. Then squinted, trying to focus your tired eyes on him. Because it couldn’t be.

Your brother was hardly a toddler.

It hadn’t been that long... just a couple of years. Maybe.

It wasn’t immediate—far from the clarity you might have preferred—but recognition did dawned the longer you looked. His mop of wet messy curls struggled under its own weight, stubbornly sticking out in awkward directions, much like yours often did after a shower. And those eyes.

Willis had definitely had a thing or two for coloured eyes in a woman.

This time the realization felt like a sharper pain; a slap. Older now—maybe nine or ten—your brother was standing in front of you, the spitting image of his father like you were of your mother. That thought anchored you, rooted you in place as the silence grew, filled only by static.

With it, the questions began to tumble through your mind like dominoes:

How the hell did he get here?

Obviously, he walked, right? But in the rain?

All the way here from Crime Alley, in the dark?

You stared at him for far too long. So much you could've started to feel uncomfortable too. It was socially inappropriate even. But so it was disturbing people at this hour, so you bet you kept staring. Thoughts clashed and raced, refusing to settle.

“Yeah, kid, I don’t know about that—” The words came out hesitant, weak. Perhaps speaking them might dissolve the truth in front of you. But the longer you denied it, the clearer it became.

Of course, this was your brother.

It just had to be, because why the hell not?

Your baby brother.

He had to be about ten now. You hoped he was still nine, but his birthday had long passed if you had it right.

How in the hell did he find me?

Is his lip okay? Clearly not—but how had it gotten busted?

Did he get into a fight?

Where are mom and dad?

The thought of him walking alone out there, so small and vulnerable, chilled you to the bone. The idea of walking the streets alone terrified you being his senior. Out there, death would almost feel merciful compared to what could happen.

At least the monster living down the hall was a known evil. The streets, though? They hid horrors far worse.

People often said you could sense being watched, when they weren’t alone in a

room and danger loomed nearby. Whatever that underdeveloped sixth sense was, it stirred in you, pulling your gaze away from Maybe-Jason—who, judging by his oblivious expression, has proudly evolved past any shred of survival instinct—and toward the hallway.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

The very last, or first, of the apartment doors down the hall stood slightly ajar, its shadowed outline warped in the dim, flickering light. Large portions of the space cloaked in suffocating darkness by burned-out bulbs, but even through the haze of your blurry vision and growing dread, you could see him.

There he was. Standing just within the frame of the door, his silhouette barely illuminated. He didn’t need much light to convey what he was—a predator, coiled and waiting. The sight almost froze you in place with chills one after the other. It was like watching carnage step into the light dressed in colours to deceive.

You yanked on the door handle without thought, The lock chain vibrating sharply. The frame rattled under your grip as your restless hands itched to do something—anything. Every instinct screamed at you to grab Jason, drag him inside, and slam the door. Brother or not, scammer or not, it didn’t matter. All you wanted was to get him out of sight. Out of that sight.

From the neighbors.

From the world.

From the danger now standing on your threshold.

Of course, although you had never meant to shut the door in his face, it wasn’t hard to see why Jason probably thought you were doing just that. Looking up from frantically searching his pockets for whatever reason, only to look up and see you disappear behind the chipped wood and flaking varnish must've been disheartening. Desperation etched on his young face perfectly mirrored the ache pounding in your chest—a feeling only a boy his age could wear so openly, and one only you could understand. You knew what could happen to him, to both of you, and the weight of that knowledge crushed you. His desperation laid elsewhere, as he was yet to become aware of the danger. But the feeling was mutual. Fear smells salty.

His small fist struck the door again and again. He called for nobody, babbling something about proving his claim instead. Maybe he’d forgotten your name in the haze of his nerves, or time had scrambled the syllables and their order.

It has been a while.

His pounding made you flinch, and in your fumbling to undo the chain, your ragged nails scraped against the surface. The accidental movement sent a sharp pain stabbing under your nails, but no time for whatever that was. Not as the metallic screech of rusted hinges sliced through the air.

The sound sent your heart into overdrive.

Before let-this-be-Jason could strike the door again you grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, shoving him behind you. Behind safety. That's where your brother belonged.

Then, before your dizzy, unfocused self could register how close it had been, you slammed the door shut.

══════════════ • ✧ • ══════════════

Even before stepping out of the house, Jason knew to be digging himself into a hole. He accepted the fact for what it was; his desperation guiding him down a path of poor decisions. He just hadn’t realized a shovel was in his hands until the hole’s depth exceeded his height.

Grabbed, tossed, pulled. Weren't the walls of his vertical tomb collapsing in slow, suffocating ruin, lovely? Beautiful, even.

He would have liked to think the inside of what he hoped was his sister’s apartment might be better than the place he’d come from.

It wasn’t.

It smelled of cigarette smoke, and shadows pooled in every corner. The darkness clinging to the space, thick and uninviting, might have made Jason feel at home—dragged around and overwhelmed—if the situation hadn’t spiraled out of his control so quickly.

Sure, they were family, and blood was supposed to be thicker than water, but none of that mattered if she didn’t even know he was her brother. The memories he’d clung to, distant and blurry, painted his sister as gentle and caring.

You? didn’t match that picture.

In retrospect, he realized you weren't much taller than him, and so thin he couldn’t understand why he felt so threatened. If you did try something, he figured, he could probably win in a fight—especially if the bat he somehow now held in his hands came into play.

He couldn’t remember grabbing it. Or when it had reached his hands.

It was on the floor and he had tripped with it.

You had your back to him now, tense and uncertain, seeming just as out of it as he was. For all his distrust, Jason couldn’t tell who, between the two of them, was more afraid of what might happen next.

You were frantic, scrambling to lock all four bolts, including the padlock. Each metallic click seemed to drive Jason’s heart deeper into the pit of his stomach, where it churned in acid. But he was too far gone—trapped in fight-or-flight mode—to cry about it.

Your hand hovered near the floor, near the umbrellas scattered there. Groping blindly for a handle, probably searching for the bat’s. Or maybe, fingers crossed, an umbrella to pity him.

Call it hopeful thinking.

Jason heard you curse under your breath, blaming yourself for throwing “it” too hard behind you. Still, you didn’t dare take your eyes off the door, as if you believed your unrelenting stare could alone hold it in place, as if sheer willpower wasn't already the only thing keeping that piece of wood standing. From this side, the door looked even shoddier, barely more than splintered wood and peeling paint. Jason stared at it, and you, his mind buzzing. For a fleeting second, he thought he could probably bring it down if he wanted to, so clearly the adrenaline was getting to his head.

“I think… I think it’s safe,” you muttered. Your voice shook, but the words didn’t sound like they were meant to reassure anyone but you.

Your trembling hands dropped to your sides, and you stepped away from the door.

“Safe?” Jason barked, his voice sharp, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

That’s when he learned the first thing about his so-called sister. Other than the assumptions he’d already built in his head, you were jumpy. You flinched, almost as if you hadn’t expected him to speak or still be there. To what he had to ask; Where else would he go?

His hands tightened around the bat, frustration bubbling in his chest.

Right. He had a weapon. Maybe that explained your jumpiness when facing him.

“Wow.” Your hands shot up in surrender, in a reflexive, almost lazy gesture of defeat. You didn't want to appear threatening, but your wide eyes just ticked Jason off. “So that’s where the bat went.”

“Why did you drag me in like that?” Jason barely hides the accusation. An unspoken ‘Why can’t you be normal?’ wail hung in his mind. He decided against saying it outright—better to avoid sounding desperate or offended, even if both ships had sailed.

“Because the Boogeyman was about to get you? Obviously?” you shot back, your tone spoke to a child far younger than him. Your grimace wasn’t for him though.

“What?” Confused.

“What?” You mimicked. Jason felt whatever hope he had for your help steadily slipping away.

“What— are you doing?!”

“How about you put the bat down, buddy—back with the umbrellas? I’m not going to attack you,” Jason cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “You pushed me into your apartment! If anything, you’re kidnapping me—”

“There was a man outside!” you cut him off yourself with a sharp exclamation and throwing your hands in the air, sounding genuinely offended at being called out. Good. Jason couldn't be the only one losing it here. “And stop shouting,” you hissed, lowering your voice but glaring at him. “Other people live here.”

Jason glanced around. “This place is disgusting.” Home wasn't better, but he was pissed.

“Thanks,” There was a sharp edge, more venom in your tone than you’d intended. It startled Jason enough to make him take a step back.

Seeing your little brother back away from you should've tug on your heartstrings. It did. Almost tearing them off at the memory of a toddler gleefully making a mess of his food, yet looking so utterly blameless.

You couldn't be angry at Jason—if this was truly Jason. You had to remember who you were getting angry at and would/could cry.

Still, you should’ve been ashamed of the mess. You looked like you knew you should.

The apartment was tiny, cramped, and barely livable. The peeling wallpaper was stained yellow. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a leaning tower of neglect, and discarded takeout containers dotted the counters like forgotten relics. The lone couch sagged under its own weight, covered in a mismatched patchwork of old blankets, and the floor—God, the floor...

Jason, once a master of breaking down your stubborn resolve with those big, pleading eyes, probably for the best, didn't seem to remember his power over you even having already made you back down. You sighed and leaned against the door. Slowly, you slid down until you hit the floor. The movement felt pitiful, like a defeated video game boss collapsing after the final blow. Only there was no triumphant music playing in the background and it looked sadder.

You stared at the floor, head tilted slightly forward, shoulders slumped. “It’s been a while,” you muttered, your voice strained, “since I talked to actual people, okay? Sorry for… the mess. I guess.”

And Jason reluctantly lowered his guard.

The bat still clenched tightly in his hands, eventually lowered, no longer pointing at you. Even so, he kept it close as he sat down on the floor, mirroring your posture.

“S’okay,” he mumbled.

“You look battered,” you said before a ten year old could take pity on you.

“You look high.”

To what his sister gasped, hand flying to your chest in mock offense. “I don’t—do I?—” And stopped abruptly. A pause, a sigh, and then you scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze. “Okay, fair enough. ‘m not like that, but they cut the water off Monday morning so...”

“...It’s wednesday,” Jason saw you wince.

“What are you doing here anyway? How did you find me? Or even get here in the first place?”

“I walked…” Jason admitted, trailing off. He’d wanted the silence to stretch a little longer, but…

“(Name)?”

“Hey,” you cut in, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Glad to know you remember my name.”

“I came because of mom… Was there really someone in the hallway?”

“Yeah... Some creep. I'm 80% sure he’s a pimp too.”

“A pin? What's that?”

“What's what?” Suddenly remembering the limits and implications of talking to a ten year old. Even if the streets were more home than Catherine and Willis, Jason was still a child. You too, but you have literally lived in the streets for some time.

Wonderful times.

“Doesn’t matter. Just be more careful, Jason.”

He hesitated, the weight of his next words sinking his shoulders. “Mom 's bad.”

Your face fell. “You shouldn’t have left her alone with Dad if she was already—”

“Willis is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Jail.”

“…Huh.” You slumped back against the door, your hand rubbing at your temple. “Well… you shouldn’t go back out at this hour,” you muttered, your tone softening. “Especially not in the rain.” You pushed yourself to your feet with a groan. “I’ll grab you a towel… Food?”

His stomach grumbled, betraying him entirely.

“Yeah. Food too then.”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Sorry, but can I just stress something about Louis that drives me insane? 

In his route where you've saved him, he kills Dorian. Louis directly kills another person. He shot her with a crossbow through the mouth.

It’s unavoidable. 

Sure, it’s considered an accident, and even so, it was also self-defense—Dorian sure wasn’t there for a friendly chat, after all. 

But here's the thing... of the Ericson crew, we know that Clementine, AJ, and Marlon have killed someone. And Minerva if you want to count her, too, since she once was part of the group . But the others? Maybe they have killed before and we just don’t know about it, whether it be out of mercy or self-defense.

Violet in her route had the chance to kill Minerva, but understandably, she didn’t. She opted to shoot her in the shoulder instead… but we never see her kill anyone herself. 

Maybe you could count indirect kills because of the bag of bricks/log that kills Yonatan, and maybe you could consider Mitch’s death as indirectly Tenn’s fault… Speaking of Mitch, he tried to kill Lilly, but we all saw how that turned out, didn't we? 

…but Louis? He killed Dorian. That was his first kill. His first. 

And he feels awful about it! He apologizes to the body as it lays warm at his feet! He’s shaking and can barely speak!! It feels like bile! He doesn't even have time to process it because uh oh, the boat's going to explode!

But he’s also been so hardened over the season by everything that’s happened to him that he comes out of it glad that he has it in him to kill because if that’s what it takes to protect Clementine, AJ, and his family and home, then he’ll do it even if he doesn’t want to.

How does that not drive anyone else utterly mad?

Fandom considers him the funny guy! He's cute and silly! He makes Clementine laugh!

He's also done murder! He's taken a life! Just like Clementine and AJ have! Just like Marlon did!

And honestly, I think this also leads to him forgiving AJ for killing Tenn because at this point, he understands. He hates it, and he wishes it didn’t have to be this way, but he gets that AJ saw something that he didn’t. Louis knows that AJ’s hurting just as much as he is, he even says as much if Clementine says anything other than “AJ saved your life” on the bridge. 

He relived Marlon’s death when Tenn died, but it’s not like his hands are clean, either… and neither were Marlon’s. Clementine’s hands definitely aren’t clean. 

It drives me crazy that best friends Louis and Marlon have each killed someone in TFS but Marlon killed Brody in a moment of panic because he’s a coward who wanted hide what he did while Louis killed Dorian in a moment of panic because he was trying to save Clementine from Minerva and she came up behind him like… hhhhnnnnggggggggg, y’know?

Oh, and don't even get me started on the clouis aspect of this because I'll lose it. He talks to her about it because he knows she'll understand, just like how she's always understood him. How he goes out of his way to tell her that having a home means protecting it and he's going to protect it [that home being her, AJ, and Ericson] no matter what because he wants to build this new life with her aaaaaaaaaaaaaand I've lost it—

[star-centric]

Holly (Domestic Happiness) || Chuuya

MEANING: Holly represents the modern-day symbols of happiness, peace, and optimism at home. As the last birth flower of the year, it blends positivity of the festive holiday season with hope for the new year approaching.

A/N: I love picturing Chuuya’s domestic life, he deserves all the happiness in life 🧡 Reader is gender neutral!

❀ FLOWER SPECIAL MASTERLIST ❀

It wasn’t often that you would wake up next to Chuuya.

The differing hours between your occupations made it a bit difficult- his position as an Executive made him work odd hours while your regular office job had you gone from sunrise to sunset. You still made time to see one another in other ways, but it was hard to find yourselves next to one another when sleep called.

When you felt something warm stir beside you, you were surprised to find that it was your husband, soundly asleep. He looked so peaceful, ginger locks spilling onto the pillow below. You were both jealous and amazed at how he looked so beautiful without even trying.

When was the last time you saw him like this? It had to be during your honeymoon, right? That was months ago, and seeing him like this now had you reliving the moment all over again.

It was a small ceremony, some of your close family and friends at a venue far from Yokohama. Seeing him become so awed as you walked down the aisle, seeing the tips of his ears burn bright as he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. You remember how much your cheeks were hurting that day from saying I do all the way to the reception and more.

“What’s got you smilin’ so hard?”

Chuuya roused from under the sheets, voice raspy and filled with sleep. “Must be good if it got you up like this.”

“It is.” You chuckled, tangling your legs with his. Chuuya shot you the same tender look as when he first said I love you at the sound. His azure eyes softened, pulling you towards him.

“Mind telling me what’s it about?” He wrapped his arms across your waist, rolling on top of you and burying his face into the nape of your neck, pressing kisses against it. It left you tickled, laughing as you weakly attempted to push him away.

Being married hasn’t changed anything in your relationship- you still had the same playfulness like you did in the early stages. The only thing that changed was the promise of forever, which you could do with Chuuya.

“I’m surprised to see you off today.” You gave him a quick peck in the midst of his “attack.” “Do I get to have you to myself all day?”

“Not all day unfortunately, I gotta see the boss around nine.” Chuuya sighed, getting off of you but still keeping you in his arms.

“This morning?”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t take long. I’ll take you to that cafe you’ve been wanting to try once I’m done.”

You slept in since today you were off, so if your husband was still here…

“Um, Chuuya-“ a quick glance at your phone on the nightstand proved your thoughts right. “It’s 10:30.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Chuuya shoot out the bed like he did, covers and pillows being flung to the floor. He snatched up his own phone, cursing at the missed calls and texts. He groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. It was funny to see him stressed like this since he was always so composed- you held in your laugh while you got up too, chills shooting through body as your feet touched the floor.

“I’ll make you some quick breakfast- just go get ready.”

It was stereotypical, sending him out the door with his meal in hand and a kiss (even if one kiss turned to two, then to three- he could never get enough).

But seeing the adoration in his eyes match the same shine as your wedding ring made it more than worth it.

[maxdibert]

Hello, I've been following you for some time and I love your posts and analyzes about Severus, I regularly update your blog hoping for more and I always wanted to send you something, but I never had the opportunity.

But recently I saw a video on TikTok, which I didn't pay much attention to, but I saw the comments and one of them talked about how if Harry was a woman and looked like Lily, Severus would be a pedophile and that that gave people the creeps. And I, personally, find this statement very funny, because as far as I remember, Snape never had inappropriate contact with any Hogwarts student, or with anyone, in fact. But people intentionally forget that the only person who had the opening to do this was Peter Pettigrew. Ron himself said that they slept together and, probably, Peter saw the boys, literal children, changing their clothes, but, obviously, it would be Snape who was the child predator.

Sorry if it wasn't very understandable, English isn't my first language and I'm using Google to help.

Hi! Thank you. I'm glad you like my rants and sometimes nonense lol

About your pint... Well, this is a very old story. If I had a penny for every time I’ve read someone spouting this nonsense, I wouldn’t be rich, but I’d have enough for a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant. It’s so absurd that I don’t even think it’s worth refuting, but just to clarify a few things:

Severus resents Harry for two main reasons, and neither of them has to do with being in love with Lily. It’s not something as childish as “uh, my crush married someone else.” No, there are several layers to it.

The first and most obvious is that, unfortunately, Harry is the spitting image of his father, who, unfortunately, was a jerk who spent his school years torturing people—specifically, and with great enthusiasm: Severus Snape. James spent seven years hunting him down and attacking him for sport, backed by his loyal ally Sirius Black and supported by his lackeys, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. While the latter two might not have physically assaulted Severus, they were there as enablers and complicit bystanders. Four against one, at the end of the day.

Severus never had the chance to heal from that abuse because, at 21, he was forced to return to the very place that had been hell for him. He had to teach students who were likely old enough to have witnessed some of those humiliations during his time as a student. A victim cannot heal in the place where they were consistently harmed.

Then Harry comes along, looking like an exact replica of James, and every time Severus sees him, it triggers him immensely. When he looks at Harry, he doesn’t see Lily’s son, nor does he see a child—he sees his abuser. And we all know Harry isn’t to blame for any of this, but the thing is, we can’t expect someone who isn’t acting rationally to be rational. Especially when we’re talking about someone who desperately needs therapy and probably medication, neither of which he’s ever had access to.

Then there’s another factor—a deeply emotional one—which is that Harry’s very existence is a painful reminder of Severus’s own role in Lily’s death. The fact that this kid is there, an orphan, is a constant reminder that Severus overheard a prophecy, reported it to Voldemort, and that Voldemort then chose to kill the most important person in Severus’s life because of it. It’s a perpetual mix of anger and guilt.

Looking at Harry forces Severus to relive his past as a victim, his most humiliating moments, as well as the terrible decisions he made because of them and their devastating consequences. This doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does explain it quite well.

What I’m trying to say is that the reasons behind how he treats Harry are deeply tied to trauma. If Harry were a girl and resembled Lily, Severus would still feel deeply triggered every time he saw her. The only difference would be that instead of seeing James in her, he’d see Lily. I think, rather than anger, it would fill him with depression and guilt to such a degree that, instead of antagonizing her, he’d try to avoid her as much as possible. He wouldn’t want to get within ten miles of her because seeing her face would constantly remind him of the person he failed and indirectly condemned.

At no point do I imagine anything even remotely sexual crossing his mind. Especially when you consider that Severus never once confessed his feelings to Lily or behaved inappropriately toward her. I do think he’d act “softer,” but not because of her appearance specifically—more because Severus is always gentler toward women. I mentioned this in another post, but his more cordial relationships are almost always with female characters, and when he’s cruel, it’s typically far worse with men than with women.

People who lack even the most basic comprehension or analytical skills… Honestly, if they’re going to hate on him, the least they could do is come up with more convincing arguments. Sometimes it’s just exhausting to explain why their theories don’t make any sense.

[bedoballoons]

(idk why i always ask for fics like im ordering something off a mcdonald’s drive thru menu) hi!! can i get uhhh headcannons of ayato, alhaitham, diluc, and scara (separately) w a reader that has traumatic flashbacks while watching scary movies? i know it’s very specific and niche, so feel free to ignore this request

💌- anon

Pffff, please that's to funny. I hope you don't think I ignored this, I'm just slow! I actually love this idea so I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!!

─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─

{༻~Brings back all the memories~༺}

CW: GN! Reader who has trauma, angst to fluff! Slight cursing!

Character talking is tilted

(Includes: Diluc, Alhaitham, Ayato, and Scaramouche!)

𑁍༄Diluc:

Why...why did it feel like you couldn't breath anymore? Everything was fine...you were just watching a movie, just sitting on the sofa with Diluc...when did it change? When...when did you end up here? In the very place that gave you nightmares, that traumatized you..it was impossible....right?

No...no it had to be impossible

This wasn't real. It couldn't be...anything but this. Anything but that feeling of your tears running down your face till you'd used them all, anything but the sting in your throat from the pleas and cries for help...anything but back here!

"Are you okay?"

You blinked rapidly, air flowing back into your lungs when you saw the movie had been paused...it wasn't real. It. Wasn't. Real. "Y-yeah, just...can we watch something else I'm sorry I-"

"There's no need to apologise. How about we watch something happier, you can move in closer to me too. I'll calm you down the best I can."

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

You covered your ears, hoping to drown out the sounds, to not relive the things you'd experienced, but it was like you couldn't do anything. You were tapped in your past self...ready to experience every horrible thing again and again, "Help! H-help! Someone?!? Anyone?!?" But there was still no one...just like before...just like every other time.

Your hands started to shake, your stomach churning, no. No. Please, not again. Where was Alhaitham, where was the life you'd built to never think about this version of you again?? "H-hello..please...someone, just help..I need help.." You leaned your head back against the dirty wall behind you and rocked back and forth, quietly begging for help.

"It's alright, I turned off the movie. I'm here."

You let go of your ears at the familiar sound of Alhaithams voice and it was like your eyes had adjusted back to normal...his hand firm on your arm, pulling you back to reality. "I...I was back-"

"I know...lets not talk about it anymore alright? I'll make you a cup of tea and we can read a book together instead. Honestly we should have done that in the first place, literatures much better then any recording and this is only proving that...will you be alright?"

𑁍༄Ayato:

You were struggling, struggling to keep yourself sane after what had just happened..one moment you're with Ayato, laughing about how silly one of the characters in the movie was and now...now you were terrified. Now you were running, legs burning, breathing tossed aside to make room for short gasps for air and strangled screams. You were in hell...like you'd never left.

Your heart was racing, beating like it was about to explode...you just have to get away, you just have to go further. Please, you begged your body to catch with your mind, to just run faster but you could tell you were slowing down...you just didn't have the energy left. "No! Fuck!" You shouted as you fell to the ground, had you tripped? Had you used up all your stamina...did it matter? You couldn't get back up either way, all you could do was sit there trying to breath..

"It's alright my dear, come here."

"Ayato?" You closed your eyes tightly and then, you were back in front of the TV, Ayatos arms tight around you, the movie shut off and tears running down your cheeks. "I thought it was real...I w-was so scared."

"It wasn't real, you're safe and sound with me and that's how it's going to stay. I won't let anything like that happen to you ever again, I promise."

𑁍༄Scaramouche:

You stared out the window, feeling the cold chill your bones...this had to be just a memory and yet it was so real, you could even see your breath in the freezing air. Had your life with him been just another dream? Had you never actually gotten to live those happy moments. You clutched your stomach, feeling so upset you could puke...

Everything you'd tried to forget, every smell, every feeling, every single terrifying moment, had been brought back, just for you to experience it again.

"Hey, you alright?"

You looked away from the screen, pulled out of your flashback so harshly your head was spinning...when had the movie turned into your past? "I...um yeah. I'm fine, sorry."

"Are you sure, cause you're crying and shivering like you've just seen the scariest thing in your life.."

"..."

"Come here you idiot, next time we are watching kid shows or something. I don't care how annoying they are."

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Bonus Chapter

*Liams POV*

“Say that one more time and I shall have you beheaded.”

From her tone I know that she is not lying. She will kill him if he ever says something or anything to her. Anger and fury are radiating from her figure, filling the classroom with uncomfortable tension.

I can’t believe he would say such things, especially to her considering who her father is and that he could punish him with just a snap of his finger. He is one of the most powerful men on the continent after all.

Thinking that Jack would have more braincells proved to be wrong.

I watch Arya storm out of the room when the bells ring and Professor Kaori follows her figure with his eyes, still looking pale and worried. He pivots and faces Barlowe, fury taking over his face.

“How dare you insult another cadet like that? And a Melgren after all! You have no idea what you have done. You should be careful with your words and actions, Cadet, before she’ll take revenge. Her threat wasn’t just a threat … she is capable of things you can’t even imagine. She is just as powerful without her father breathing down her neck. This threat was a promise” he finishes his lecture.

If this whole situation wouldn’t be so serious and fucked up, I would laugh out loud about Jacks fearful expression.

I gather my things and walk out in the hallway, coming face to face with Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi and Imogen, all of them looking confused down the hallway. Xaden notices me first, his brows hitting his hairline, curiosity in his eyes.

“What happened that Melgren was literally sprinting down the corridors with nothing but rage radiating from her?” my wingleader asks.

“Barlowe” I say, noticing said cadet steps out of the classroom, finding my glaring eyes watching him. He flinches slightly and scrambles down the hallway. “What did he say?” Imogen asks with a furrow of her brows.

“That no dragon would choose her on their own because she is ‘pathetic’ and General Melgren would manipulate Threshing or his dragon will threaten some of the other dragons to choose her as their rider” I whisper so other cadets doesn’t hear what happened.

Even though the most horrible man on this continent is her father, she is nothing like him. She is … nice and funny. She cares about her squad (minus Luca but she is just annoying), helping them with academics and challenges because if we’re being honest … she is incredibly tough.

My friend’s heads snap into my direction, disbelief in their eyes. “Amari, and in front of Kaori too?” Garrick asks wide eyed. I nod.

“What was her answer? Because we all know that she will never ignore such an insult” Bodhi says, crossing his arms in front of him. I chuckle nervously, rubbing my neck with one hand while trying to form the words that left the red-haired women a few minutes ago. To be honest, she impressed me with her threat and Kaori’s reaction confirmed that she meant what she said. The next time she’ll kill him.

“Uhm, you know … she said “please, say that one more time and I shall have you beheaded.””

Garrick breaks out in loud laughter, Xaden looks unbothered but I can see his mouth twitching, trying to hide his smirk. Imogen and Bodhi both chuckles. “Yeah, I can totally see her doing that” Garrick still laughs while shaking his head.

“Well, Kaori confirmed that the threat was actually a promise and that none of us has any idea what she is capable of.” My words seem to get them to think.

“I mean” Xaden begins “she carries herself with a lot of confidence.”

“Yeah, we saw in assessment what she can do and that it doesn’t matter how tall or buff her opponent is. She is a beast on the mat, and I am pretty sure she even could take us down or at least hold the fight for as long as possible.” the section leader says, looking at my older foster brother.

“I still can’t believe she took that guy out with only two punches” Imogen mutters, reliving the memory in her head.

I still remember how we all stared dumbfound and in disbelief at her when she took down her opponent in assessment. Two punches- one on the nose, one in the upper cheek/jaw, and then he went down. Unconscious.

“We need to be careful with her being around. I best believe that the general has something to do with her being assigned to Fourth Wing. She has to observe us, I am sure about that. What we are doing. I will not risk anything so be careful and take care. She is dangerous!” Xaden orders while we make our way to today’s challenges.

And while Xaden will punch me for this in foreseeable future, I actually want to get to know her more, what her history is.

Looking over my friends I notice Bodhi is lost in his thoughts, a closed off look adorning his face. I know he finds her as interesting as I do, maybe even more because she is gorgeous and his type after all. But he would risk everything they build up over these past months and years by getting involved with her like that.

All I want is to find out what’s the deal with her and then I’ll call it a day. Hopefully.

[mochazai]

hiii i was wondering if i could request some of your headcannons for peter parker x a fem reader who is introverted and kinda cold and how he would approach her since we all know he’s the cutest human being and you can choose any background for this like new student prompt or if they barely know each other or not because i just love your peter sooo i’m so curious about that because he would be so insecure and panic since he wouldn’t get any ‘i like you’ signs and aaa that would be so funny (poor peter)

soo obviously take your time and i can’t wait for this and any other peter headcannons you have!!

𝙋𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙄𝙣 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 : 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

Summary: there’s a moody new girl in the building and Peter Parker just cant keep her out of his mind

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female! Reader

A/N: HIYA ANON! I hope you liked this and sorry it kinda became a oneshot in point form :’3 I’d love to know your thoughts on this and I hope you’re happy with it <3

Masterlist [menu]

Peter Parker is a gentle and simple guy. He’s outgoing and chatty with his friends and reserved yet expressive with others. But the moment you walk in the door his tongue feels like lead and his surroundings disappear like he’s in a cut scene, one he’d happily relive over and over again might i add.

Most people take a liking to him, whether it be due to genuine interest,kindness,or pity, he usually ended up on people’s good sides. So when he introduces himself to you he imagines you’ll smile or at least awkwardly give him a loose handshake back. But when you just side eye his outstretched hand, narrow your eyes, offer a smile that looked more like a sneer and sidestep him, he doesn’t know how to feel!

The butterflies in his stomach are at war, some dying at the thought that you already hate him while more spawned at the possibility that it wasn’t him that agitated you,but something else…either way he felt silly for being so hopeful.

You soon gained a reputation as the moody new-girl. The one who sat at lunch alone and stared at anyone who stepped too close to her. And you weren’t known as a stellar friend-maker either.

Every day Peter would watch as you sat alone,ate alone or did group projects solo. He wanted to talk to you, become your first friend and make sure you weren’t alone but he was honestly too scared…

Every day he’d rant to Ned about how cute you were and everyday Ned would listen with a smirk,a little scheme coming together in his head as he lent his ear to his best friend.

He even asked Michelle for advice on how to interact with you, given that you were both girls, but they both knew he’d probably never use any of it.

One day when peter rushed into class,nearly late, he rushed over to ned and michelle to sit with them, only to find that his usual seat was taken up by their bags while a box MJ said was ‘too fragile to move’ rested on his table.

He would’ve stood and argued but class was going to start, so he scanned the class for another empty seat and walked to it with red ears and a heart that was beating out of his chest. (of course the seat was next to you :3)

He sat down beside you, noticed you were doodling and instinctively leaned in to look,which prompted you to shut the book harder than necessary,but not before he caught a glimpse of something that looked like “[your initials] + P.P”

His pulse sped up again and he felt his face heating up like a thermostat on a winter day. He turned back to Michelle and Ned, only to see them smirking and nodding at him. This was a set up.

He knew he couldn’t switch seats and honestly he didn’t want to so he just continued on with class till it ended and you moved to your next class.

This happened the entire day and peter and you ended up sitting together throughout the whole day.

When it came time for lunch, he walked in and saw you alone and after he’d grabbed his tray he looked at Ned and Michelle who were both motioning towards you who were sat all by your lonesome. So he swallowed his fear and took the plunge.

He walked over to you and gently sat his tray down at your table like he was scared you would ask him to leave, (he was) but you didn’t. You looked up at him and this times your gaze started harsh but once you recognised him, it softened.

You two at in silence and when lunch was over you set off for your classes and continued the day’s pattern of sitting together.

This continued for a few days with you even helping him and handing him stationery if he needed. And finally a after three days you had your first actual full conversation.

He noticed you had a star wars pin and asked about it, your eyes seemed to brighten and your entire demeanor shifted to one he’d never expected. The more you talked and got lost in explanation, the more you glowed. Your mannerisms were lively and he felt his heart thump louder with each word.

And then even that pattern continued. You would talk to him and only him most of the time, only showing him kindness, only letting him see the light in your eyes. But slowly you began to become more social as your friendship progressed. You met MJ and Ned and instantly connected over nerdy interests and hobbies.

You four became a sort of motley crew, four oddballs cruising through classes together. Completing assignments and hanging out together after school.

But a month after your first interaction, you walked into class like it was a normal day, not knowing your P.P had a surprise for you.

At your desk was a paper with a doodle “ [your initials] x P.P”

You nervously looked up around and found peter standing near his seat next to you. He sat down and you only hoped he hadn’t seen the paper before you turned it over to hide it and saw a “I Like You Too (P.P)”

You looked back at him and he looked redder than his super suit.

Instead of saying anything, you placed your hand over his and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

And that was the story of how peter parker and you, the new girl, went from strangers to lovers :3

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @𝐦𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 ; 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲,𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[notnights]

I think abt Jax abstracting while Gangle doesn’t ( or Jax abstracting before her ) very often

Gangle is very conflicted bc like she should be somewhat happy/relived right? Jax treated her and everyone else awfully!

But she can’t help but feel awful about it. Especially because the last time she saw him before he abstracted Gangle could tell something was off as he was.. well not *nice* but he was less mean.

She tried to ask him if something was going on but he either snapped or brushed her off ( Gangle wonders if maybe if she pressed him harder he’d still be here )

There’s also the elephant in the room regarding his funeral. I can imagine there was a hefty debate on if Jax even *deserves* a funeral, in the end the funeral did happen but it was awkward and short.

This is a really great concept!

When you lose someone who's important to you but who has been awful to you is really conflicting. Even if we say Gangle hates Jax, Jax has been a constant in her life. He was there since she arrived. A part of her world is gone now even if that part was awful.

She would feel both relived and sad. And then feel guilt for feeling relived (because he was lost how could one think something like that when someone "died"), and/or feel guilt over being sad (because he was awful, why should she mourn him).

And then if we add the idea they are somewhat friends, Jax being the one that really communicates the most to her (from what we've seen so far), or even controls her, that's a big loss. She is free now, but with that comes the conflict of what does she do now? She's been following Jax's lead so long, what happens now? Feels a little lost without him. And if he was really one the only sources that really hang out and kept her company, god she'd just feel so lonely. That one constant again. Gone.

The emotional conflicts of losing an abusive loved one is very interesting to me. I always really liked that scene in Tangled when Mother Gothel falls to her death and Rapunzel actually reaches out for her. Because despite everything Gothel put her through and kept her from, she still raised her.

Anyways that tidbit is a bit of derail but just... always an interesting aspect in these kind of relationships that don't really get talked about. And it's perfectly fine to feel these ways too... understanding and knowing what they were doing to you was wrong, even never forgiven them for it. But still mourning their loss. It feels bad, conflicting, guilty but that's okay, emotions are funny like that.

Gangle dealing with that would be so interesting and sad. Worse if we add the idea she actually does care about him someway. Considers him a friend, or loves him, etc.

Worse if she knew Jax cared about her in someway too. Involving that "if she pressed, he'd still be here" idea. Jax always kept her as company, making her realize she was really the only one that could have noticed, could have helped. Even if it was just as his victim or lackey. Feels guilty that even if she's just the one that was always standing closest to him, she out of everyone should've noticed something, right? If she was something, anything, to Jax, she feels it was her responsibility to help. That eats her up even if being "something," to Jax wouldn't have changed anything.

Then at the end of this, Jax's funeral is depressing. Not for the same reasons as many others though. They don't hesitate to do it, they know they have to, Jax was still a person lost. But they didn't think that far into it, as no one really knows what to say about him. Ragatha steps up and tries to talk about him, has trouble with it. Lots of "he--- well!! Ah, Jax was..." that really ends with nothing said at all. Maybe Zooble says they'll miss him being a thorn at their side, as they can't find anything kinder to say.

Maybe Gangle decides to say something, if they were "friends," maybe she does have some interesting things to say. Maybe she just ends up standing up there and crying and sobbing in front of everybody because really what can she say? What can she do? Nobody liked him, not even she liked him, and yet she's here crying so hard she can't speak over him.

[sulumuns-dootah]

11.12. Dantalian - Sharing stories

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

    ༺☆༻

Its late at night in the middle of December but neither you or Dantalian even thought about sleeping. Talking and laughing can be heard from the outside of your shared bedroom. You're sitting across from Dantalion on the bed and telling him about a funny story that happened to you when you were still living in the human world. He's paying attention to you and eating some cookies that were gifted to him by Asmodeus just like to every other demon of Abaddon. You had few of them, but they weren't exactly up to your tastes, so you didn't mind that he didn't share.

The adorable demon sometimes nods his head or chuckles as you're talking, but never interrupts you. Moments like these are rare and you're glad for every single one of them.

“- so in the end I don't even know what happened to him, but I know he had to change schools after that.” you finish your story and slump against the headboard on a pile of decorative pillows.

Dantalian swallows his bite and chuckles, “This kinda reminds me of that one time I went to Heaven with Phenix and all the angels swarmed them instead of me.”

“What happened to them then?” you gasp and shoot up from your previous position of half laying.

“I returned the same day back only with few scratches and cuts. The lesser angels thought they'll prove themselves, but lost interest soon. When I came back” -Dantalion sets the now empty box aside on the bedside table- ”to hell nobody saw them for the next week. I asked the healers but nobody knew where they are. I even asked His Majesty Asmodeus, but he didn't even answer me. I was getting kinda worried.”

“But they didn't kill them, right? Since they're still with us.” you worriedly touch Dantalions hand. The look in his eyes is more jealous than distressed.

“Then they appeared out of nowhere and without the usual state they're in. You know, the on-edge? All gone.”

“The angels severed Asmodeus' energy bond?” you gasp and can't believe what you're hearing. If you knew Dantalion had much better things to share than your story of some troublemaker from your childhood, you'd have the demon talk the whole night instead.

“They did. His Majesty was really angry. Most of all he blamed me for it like I was directly responsible. The punishment he came up for it was horrible.”

“What did he do to you?” you get really worried. You would fight anybody for mistreating Dantalion, even if it was one of the Kings of Hell himself. Hell, you would fistfight God if the need ever arose.

“He forbade me from going to Heaven. Luckily enough it was only about two weeks before the angel attacks on Gehenna started, so I didn't even need to go there anymore.” he smiles blissfully from recalling all those swarms of God's minions.

“So... everything was good?” you try to gauge the emotion he feels. His reminiscing of all the injuries he sustained could only lead to one thing-

“More than good... Just thinking about it... Do you want to help me relive all those things the angels have done to me during those battles?” he springs up and pins you underneath himself.

    ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"I sometimes feel like you falter while cutting me. Would a better dagger help ease your mind, perhaps? "

[ye-olde-sodor]

“You still don’t get it, do you?” A Villain!Percy one shot fic!

Psst, @puffpal7 remember that Villain Au of Percy you mentioned? Here you go :3

Thomas struggled to open his eyes. His body ached and his eyes stun. He tried to move, but he groaned in pain as he did. He was half tempted to just shut his eyes again, and go back to sleep, but the sight of an unfamiliar room replaced his weariness and pain with panic.

His eyes shot open as he scanned the room. Boxes and other clutter littered the ground while spiderwebs were tucked away in corners and crevasses. The only light in the room came from the night sky that seeped into the room from a nearby window. The rest of the room was covered in darkness.

He tried to get up, but he found his limbs tied to the chair he was sitting on. He tried to break the bonds holding him but they wouldn't budge. Panic turned to desperation as he tugged and pulled at the ropes, and as he did so the chair only creaked and groaned. Try as he might, he just couldn't break them.

Suddenly, he heard the creaking of an old wooden door. His head darted to the left, and he was relived when he saw who it was.

"Percy! Oh thank the Lady, I thought I'd never see you again! Where have you been?! We've been looking all over for-"

"Shut it." Percy replied coldly.

Thomas was stunned by the reply. "What?"

Percy shut the door behind him, and stepped closer to Thomas. As soon as the moonlight hit Percy's body, Thomas saw the drastic change in his friend. His once long and green hair was now black and didn't even touch his shoulders. His eyes felt meaner, colder even, as they glared at the man in the chair. Thomas felt his body turn cold and stiff at the changes.

"Percy...what's gotten into you? What's going on?! Where am I?!" Thomas cried in desperation for some sort of comfort from his friend.

Percy's face turned into a scowl as Thomas tried to remember how he had gotten here. "You really don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?!" Thomas cried out. "Percy, this isn't funny! Let me go!"

"You still don't get it, do you?"

Desperation grew into terror and confusion. "Get what?! What don't I get?! Talk to me!"

"Thomas, you know damn well what this is about," he began, "It's about us. It's about me. It's about me being in your shadow since the Reverend first wrote about us!"

"I was always the small guy!" Percy went on angerly. "I was always the baby of the team! The Green Thomas! The weird little guy that follows Thomas! Just another character for Thomas to talk to and mock! No one even bothers to listen to me because of it!"

Percy threw his hands up. "Half of the people on this island don't even know my name, Thomas! My NAME. Even after I've been delivering their mail for over sixty years!"

"You will never understand what that feels like. How much that hurts me!" He yelled at the man tied to the chair.

Thomas was stunned by what his friend had told him, but he felt shame more so then betrayal. He hadn't realized how his friend had been feeling, and now that he did, he suddenly understood why he was avoiding him.

"Percy, I didn't-"

"You didn't know?" he interrupted with a sad smile on his face as he went on. "I'll admit, that was one me...If I wasn't such a pushover back then I would've said something. Maybe things would've been better."

"But now," he went on with a smirk, "Now I can...and now I'm going to make everyone know how they've wronged us!"

"...Us?" Thomas questioned.

"The Diesels. Or more specifically...Diesel 10."

"10?!" Thomas yelled in shock. "Why would you help Diesel 10?! Out of all the diesels-"

"Don't you remember when I brought you here? Don't you remember seeing how run down this place is?"

Thomas frantically tried to remember what Percy was refering to, and as he did so it finally came together. Supplies from the Steamworks have been going missing, and eventually Kevin himself disapeared.

Victor and Thomas split up to search for him, but he somehow ended up at Vickarstown. He must've taken a wrong turn somewhere, because the last thing he remembers was rushing into a decrepit building and being grabbed by Den and Dart.

He remembered the dark and derelict building that was falling apart at the seams. It recked of oil, grease, and other much fouler smells Thomas didn't want to recall. His nose burned at the memory.

He remembered being shocked at how ruined everything was, and being mortified that there were people living in such a wasteland. The Diesels that he was friends with were sleeping on matts next to barrel fires. He felt sick upon seeing it.

Percy saw the look of shock and realization his Thomas' face, and so he went on with a smirk.

"Topham doesn't listen to the Diesels...just like how you and everyone else didn't listen to me. They know what it's like. Unlike everyone else, they get me!" He yelled at him.

"Percy, 10 is an evil diesel!" Thomas yelled. "He's just using you to get what he wants!"

"Oh he probably is," Percy said nonchalantly, "Knowing the history between you two he'll robably use me as bait to get you to rush to the rescue...But I have a plan for him should he try to do such a thing."

He stepped closer to Thomas, gently leaning over the chair, with his grin growing into a manic smile.

"You could say I picked up a few of his habits."

Suddenly, a knock on the door brought the two men out of their thoughts.

"Ey Perc!" Bert yelled from the other side of the door. "We're almost ready to go! Boss is waiting for ya!"

"Already?!" Percy yelled. "I thought we needed another hour?!"

"Nope! The Steamworks crane is locked up and the supplies are all counted for!"

"Damn, I can't believe Dennis actually did something!" Percy whispered to himself. "Alright we'll head out in a moment!" He yelled back.

"Percy, please" Thomas begged. "This isn't going to work! You're going to get people hurt. You'll get hurt!"

"I appreciate the concern," Percy mocked, "But as you'll soon see, I am the one pulling the strings here! Not him, not you, not anyone else but me!...Now if you'll excuse me...I have a Steamworks to steal."

Percy turned his back on his former friend as Thomas continued to reason with him. His pleas fell on death ears as Percy calmly walked out of the storage room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Thomas, both out of desperation and frustration at himself, tugged at the ropes again, but this time he could feel something begin to bend. With a might heave, he heard the chair crack underneath him. It was a small crack, meaning that it would take some time to fully break the chair, but Thomas had found a new sense of hope.

[sorryseraphim]

The campfire crackled as the quiet of the night enveloped the people around the camp. Helene, poking at the flames as they devoured the sticks she gathered earlier, felt a little less comfortable than usual. Her core was shaken by the revelation earlier about her past. Not only did she learn about the truth about who she is, but the nature of her urge to kill also made sense as the blood that flows inside her was bestowed by Bhaal, her very being created from divinity. 

She glanced at her companions, all sleeping soundly inside their respective tents. Astarion was already in the middle of his trance when she heard a rustling noise nearby. 

Naturally, she picked up her quarterstaff and went to investigate. She glanced back at camp before going further, her eyes scanning every shadow for more disturbances that may spring while she was gone. As she stepped closer towards the bushes, that's when she saw him. A bottle in hand, leaning by a tree, Enver raised a hand and signaled her to come over.

He looked harmless under the moonlight, his hair more unkept than usual, yet as she slowly took another step towards him, she held her weapon steady in front of her, pointing towards him. 

“Forgive me for intruding, but Orin is not the only one who knows where to find your camp.”

“Why are you here?”

He leaned forward, daring to step closer to her. Helene stood firm, her staff ready as he walked towards her. He extended the bottle forward.. It was wine, sickeningly sweet and tempting. A faint smell of Klauthgrass. She looked at him warily, not leaving his gaze as he retracted his arm and took a swig from the bottle. 

“I just wanted to talk. That’s all. Hells, probe my thoughts, if you will.” 

Slowly, she lowered her staff. She knows he had been spying on them, but something about the way he drank wine with Klauthgrass and allowed her to probe his mind said that he was not a threat at this moment. She looked back at camp, ensuring the campfire was still burning brightly before replying. “Sure. No funny business.”

Enver gestures for her to follow him, leading them to a nearby clearing. He sat down, watching her walk towards him and sit beside him. A soft smile crept on his face. 

She had every reason not to follow him here. The last time they saw each other right after his coronation was not one to forget; as soon as he invited her to his office above, alone, her companions waiting eagerly downstairs, he had tried to kiss her and succeeded. She couldn't fight back as the feeling of familiarity washed over her. The way his arms, sturdy and strong, wrapped around her that moment sent her elsewhere as if reliving a long-forgotten memory. 

The silence between them was maddening. Helene gathered her thoughts and looked at him, waiting for him to say anything. 

“You know, we used to tell each other everything. The mundane, our plans for the future. Even in the quiet moments like this, it didn’t bother us as long as we were together.”

She held her tongue, wanting to protest. I don’t remember; how would I know, she thought. She looked away and fixed her gaze towards the trees. “What was I like back then?” She asked, pulling a leg up and hugging it. She felt his gaze fall on her as he proceeds to speak.

She listened to him as he spoke of events she couldn’t remember. And yet she felt the gravity of her crimes, the times she spilled blood for the glory of her Father, and how in each murder and atrocities committed, Enver still welcomed her. Despite everything she did, he looked past them and dragged the purest version of her from the depths and let it live. 

“How long were we… lovers?” The word felt surreal as it rolled out of her mouth. 

“A very, very long time. We used to say it felt forever, even though it was so little. We never even got to finish what we started; we never even came close before you disappeared.” 

Helene looked at him. She couldn’t help but notice how his brows furrowed and his eyes sunken—the years caught on him, dark circles around from many sleepless nights. He stared at her, wondering, waiting for her to reply. She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, sighing as she looked away.

He had expected this. She doesn’t believe anything at first; that has always been the case with her ever since. 

“Look at me.” 

She should not have done it when he asked. As soon as she did, he leaned forward, their lips touching again. But instead of the fierce and hungry kiss he did after the coronation, this one was tender, delicate even as his eyes fluttered. It was everything he could do before she walked away from him again. Slowly, he reached out for her cheeks, cupping them as he deepened the kiss. 

She should not have let him, but there it was again: the sense of familiarity she couldn’t visibly remember, yet it flooded her, feeling warmth as his lips touched hers. She felt something she hadn’t in a long time: the sensation of home. As they continued to kiss, he dared even further and slowly pushed her, laying her down the ground as they refused to break from the kiss. She could feel his breath hitting her skin when he broke away briefly. A rush of sensation: desire, longing, wanting was warring with anger and refusal. 

“Gortash, wait.”

At the sound of her voice, he stopped. He pulled back slightly, just so their faces were still close. Breathing heavily, he wanted to feel every inch of her again. To him, it didn’t feel wrong. This wasn’t wrong.

“We can’t keep doing this. He would know.” 

His breath slowed down, frowning at her. He dared cross that line again. One more time, he thought. “But you feel it, don’t you? You feel the pull, the draw. Our bodies fit together just as perfectly as our lives do.”

She pushed him back, sitting up. Looking at him with sadness, a bit of repulsion as her lips started to tremble, talking back at him. “And you tell me that for what? How can you expect me to run back to you when you didn’t look for me in the first place?”

“Helene…”

“All this time, I can’t remember. I always thought someone would come for me. And yet, you didn’t. Do you expect me to leave him to come back to you?” 

A deep pain went through him as she asked that question. He hadn’t thought of it; he had no explanation. He was so consumed by the very thought of taking over the world for them when she disappeared that Enver didn’t think of the possibility of her being alive. That was the reality. And yet, why did he wait all this time, hoping she would return when he could have looked for her? 

Just as he tried to gather his words, he heard the sobbing. He hadn’t heard her cry in a long time. His eyes widened at the sight of her tears, and without even thinking, he held her the way he did the very first time she laid herself vulnerable in front of him. 

“Why didn’t you look for me? Why do I have to suffer feeling everything and remembering nothing all at once?” 

“Look at me. Look at us. For once, Helene, trust the connection between us. I will bare my mind for you to see.”

“I... I don’t remember you. I’m sorry, this is unfair.”

In desperation, he held her hands and squeezed them. He wanted to hold her so badly, even though his heart was shattering as her tears continued to fall, every drop of water drowning his soul. 

“Don’t let this matter concern you. I will remember for the both of us.” 

She should not have done it. But as she lifted her head, she moved closer and slowly pressed her lips to his. She could not deny how she craved that feeling; after all this time she had struggled, the feeling of home felt right. He was stunned for a moment. But then he moved closer, pulling her in as he wrapped her arms around her body, pressing her as close to him as he could, and there he felt it: a spark of recognition deep within her. 

He wasn’t taking any chances. This was it; this was his chance. And so, once again, he pushed her to the ground and moved on top of her. Not caring anymore that they were lying in the dirt, the soft grass nestling them. Helene felt him lift the hem of her dress, one hand moving up her thighs and reaching to her tenderness. A soft moan escaped her lips.

He tried to restrain himself from doing so, as he didn’t want to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, but as she moaned again, welcoming his fingers inside her, he took it as a sign and lowered his body on top of her further. She was giving herself to him, trusting him.

In haste, he loosened his trousers and pulled out his length, and as their tongues got to know each other again, he pushed himself inside her, moaning in each other’s mouth. How he had missed this feeling, how he has missed her warm body. The way her breath hitches, her moans and sighs filling his head as he thrust deep. 

They knew it was wrong. She had a new lover, someone she chose, yet it was so right and natural. As he moved inside her, he felt her body wrapping around him, holding him close. 

“Enver…”

For the first time since she returned, she called him his name. He froze. His breath caught in his throat, and his body tensed. It was everything he could have asked for. He needed it, hearing her call him again with his name,  just like before. Him and her, nothing else matters. 

He let out a soft moan, pushing himself further inside her, his breath coming in short, quick gasps. 

“Enver…” The spark has become a flame. He could feel her body respond to him just like she did before. 

“Say it again.” He whispered, moving back and forth, holding her by the waist in one hand, the other holding her head. “Tell me my name again.” 

“Enver… You are Enver.”

He groaned into her mouth, savoring how his name rolled out of her tongue. All those years he had waited, melting into oblivion as they moved in rhythm. Their rhythm. 

“Again, just one more time.” He whispered, his voice trembling. Gods, he wanted more. He needed more time with her. “Say it again, please.”

Tears started rolling down her eyes again as she closed them. As if she could finally remember pieces of their time together, she whispered once again.

“Enver…”

When she said his name this time, he pulled her in deep. He wanted to be as close as possible, to absorb every moment. Holding her tight, he kissed her cheeks, tear-strained and warm. “You were mine, and I was yours.”

When they finally reached their release, he lay beside her. Just as their breath returned to normal, the aftermath crept up on him. He has been unfair, using her vulnerability in that moment. A wave of shame slapped him.

“I need time to think.” 

She started to get up, quietly fixing her dress. She didn’t look at him as he watched her move away from him. “Can you stay for a little longer?”

“He will look for me when he roused from his trance.”

“A few minutes couldn’t hurt, could it?” He smiled slightly. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted more time no matter what she decided, whether she chose him or her lover. Time that was stolen from them. She pondered for a moment and slumped back quietly beside him. 

“You have my gratitude.” 

Silence once again took over. The two of them sat quietly as his heart broke into tiny more pieces. “Can you promise me that you’ll at least try to remember? That maybe one day, there’s a chance, too, that we will be reunited.” 

“That’s too much you are asking.”

“You are not answering my question.”

She didn’t respond. And yet, she continued to look at him. Eyes wild, looking for signs of deception. “You are not going to say it, are you?” 

“I can’t. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

He let her go. He was watching as she walked back to her camp, not looking back at him. He let the silence settle in, stretching between them as she faded away from his view. He’d had to do the hardest thing he did all those years ago: wait. He would wait all the hours, all the days. He would wait again and hope for her to come back. 

[alyssalikestoreadbooks]

Catching Fire - Suzanne Collins

"Sparks are igniting. Flames are spreading. And the Capitol wants revenge.

Against all odds, Katniss Everdeen has won the Hunger Games. She and fellow District 12 tribute Peeta Mellark are miraculously still alive. Katniss should be relieved, happy even. After all, she has returned to her family and her longtime friend, Gale. Yet nothing is the way Katniss wishes it to be. Gale holds her at an icy distance. Peeta has turned his back on her completely. And there are whispers of a rebellion against the Capitol—a rebellion that Katniss and Peeta may have helped create.

Much to her shock, Katniss has fueled an unrest that she's afraid she cannot stop. And what scares her even more is that she's not entirely convinced she should try. As time draws near for Katniss and Peeta to visit the districts on the Capitol's cruel Victory Tour, the stakes are higher than ever. If they can't prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are lost in their love for each other, the consequences will be horrifying."

Read Date - June 1st, 2025

Length - 391 Pages

Genre - Dystopian, Romance, Fantasy

Rating -

Stars - ★★★☆☆

Notes - hearing about the victory tour is just so archaic to me. I don't think thats the right word, it's my autism word loop of the week so i keep using it even when I know it's wrong. ITS HOW I FEEL OKAY? i KNOW its not old but it feels monsterous and hideous and disgusting and the way they make these people relive the hunger games over and over and over in the concept of a tour? it IS archaic. it old fashioned and lame and weird and while we do use it in modern day, it feels very reminiscent to the era of drugging up our performers (read: comfortably numb by pink floyd) just to make them up as happy and enthusiastic people for concerts just for our entertainment. i'm sure that does still happen, but in the 70s and 80s it was pretty wild with this shit. hearing how the peacekeepers killed those three people is fucking insane. I know its dystopian but it all starts so fast. the entire thing with president snow puts me off so bad because why do you CARE if these two teenagers love each other or not. logically i get it's because he wants to keep people under his control and make sure theres no uprising but like what the hell man. knowing that Katniss didn't start the uprising herself is so fascinating to me. i know that eventually she'll support it but knowing she isnt the head of it? it's a sort of dystopian i've never read before. it's just....shocking. Gale getting whipped and this book being LITERALLY ARCHAIC IS SO CRAAAAAAAAAZY LIKE MY ASS KNEW. I KNEW THIS BOOK WAS OLD FASHIONED I KNEW THIS SHIT WAS OFF AND WEIRD. the whippings and choice to bring with corporal punishment in district 11 is just crazy and sets us all up for major violence. i actually find it the MOST FUNNY that Katniss survived the fucking hunger games of all things, and yet she gets injured by jumping over an electric fence like my lord this is a woman of many talents. us learning that district 13 might still be alive is so engaging for me. I want it to be alive. I LOVE a good secret society in a dystopian novel. They're like, kind of key in enforcing a rebellion properly. i actually am starting to grow more fond of heymitch as the book goes on. in my first review i called him a drunked bastard and i honestly feel he's trying to just cope with what he's been through. I didn't consider what its like to be a mentor to all these kids who have died, especially after you didn't. the survivors guilt must be fucking insane for heymitch. Peeta trying to hard love him into recovery is honestly sweet to me. the intention is fully there. I still don't think effie is that horrible a character. i saw people comparing her to delores umbridge when i was growing up so i thought she had to to be this massive evil bitch who hates everyone and wants to rule the world but she's really just a tone deaf elitist. in this novel she's shown as feeling regret for the people going through the quarter quell and feels bad for them. she has way more character dynamic. THE REVEAL OF PEETA SAYING KATNISS IS PREGNANT DURING THE INTERVIEWS?? SCREAMING IM SCREAMING IM SCREAMING I HAVE NO WORDS BECAUSE THE ONYL WORDS I HAVE ARE AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOD OH YM GOD MY GOD GOD OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOOOOIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG OH MY GOOOOOOOD. Katniss keeping up the facade of being pregnant is kind of just so crazy to me because whats the end result of this? what happens when theres no baby? i don't understand fully how this can end...well? you know? Wiress trying to tell people that the map is a clock the ENTIRE TIME is such a revelation. I love how her character was used. the JabberJay's being an entire hour of horror for Finnick and Katniss is just so horrifying to me. Not knowing how these birds know these screams? If Prim is safe or not? fucking terrifying to imagine going through that.