#and the statement is ‘LOOK AT THE LOVE AND FREEDOM HES FINDING’

[akkivee]

nobody has ever understood what you were giving but it’s okay i understand you ew02 ramunui

[fatuismooches]

OH NY GOD THE CHILDHOOD CRUSH CONCEPT BUT WITH DOTTORE 😭😭IF THAT'S OKAY?? reader is the only one who was interested in his endeavors and helped, so probably they're just as bad as him so they're partners in crime 👉👈 he's gotta have done experiments on then but they were never painful, only for them fr

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, there was a peculiar boy who seemed to never have any friends, alienated away from the others. Perhaps you could be his first one.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: Yes yes yes, I love this! This is so very cute, thank you and I hope you enjoy this! The use of Dottore's real name, Zandik, is used mostly in this because, well... that's what he was called as a child. (And to be honest, if you're dating any of the Harbingers you have to be somewhat... you know. And I think pre-Fatui Dottore would be different when it comes to affection and such... so yea. Subby Dottore I guess?)

Childhood was something you cherished growing up in Sumeru. The pursuit of knowledge, the Akademiya, being a scholar, was something that was drilled into the heads of the young ones even from an early age. But when you were a child, you had the freedom to actually live, the ability to dream, to have fun, to run around and play freely without having to worry about all that boring stuff. So needless to say, you made sure to spend every second of your childhood the way you wanted as much as you could. You were going to have as much fun as possible! Perhaps that was why the rumors about the teal-haired boy did not make you waver in your pursuit to befriend him too much.

Despite the child being your neighbor, you didn’t really know much about Zandik, but what you did know was that Zandik’s mother was a kind woman. She always waved hi to you when you saw her and made small talk with you. Besides that, you never really thought about it further until your friends brought it up one day.

“That lady really seems to really like you, [Name].”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, she’s always nice to me. She even makes me Pita Pockets sometimes!”

“Her child is too creepy though,” your friend complained. You were taken aback by their statement.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“Zandik’s always just been weird. That’s why no one ever plays with him. I heard that he always wants to do these weird… um, experiments I think. There are other rumors too, but I just know the way he acts is just bizarre.”

“I feel bad for her,” another one of your friends chipped in. “It must be hard to deal with such a freak. Aren’t you his neighbor, anyway? Don’t you know this?”

You just frowned and shrugged your shoulders. You didn’t really like the way they spoke about Zandik. Surely he couldn’t be as bad as they made him out to be. Maybe he was just an introvert?

Then again, you barely ever saw Zandik before. He never played with anyone, never spoke to anyone, hell, you didn’t even know if he left his house. The most often you saw him was when you happened to be walking by and caught a glimpse of him through the windows. He always quickly moved away when he was spotted though.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Just try to stay away from him, [Name].” You nodded your head, but your mind was already made up. You were determined to find out how bad Zandik actually was.

—

You did say you were going to befriend him, but you soon realized you were not sure how to go about it. You had never met someone like him before, so your choices were limited. The easiest thing you could think of was waiting near his room’s window. It was a bit embarrassing hiding behind a tree, seemingly waiting for nothing, but soon enough you saw him take a seat near the glass. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he looked very focused on it, and you were a bit mesmerized for a second, as this was your first real look at him. But you soon snapped out of your daze and came out from behind the tree.

“Heyyyy!” You yelled, jumping up and down, attracting his attention. Zandik’s shoulders jumped for a second at the noise, and when he looked up, he was greeted by your figure on the ground. Your expression brightened when you noticed he saw you and began to wave your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t hear clearly.

Zandik was stunned. If he recalled correctly, you were the person who lived next door. He saw you occasionally but of course, did not care much about you. So why were you here? Were you standing there the whole time? What did you want? His active mind produced many questions, but in the end, he knew what you were. Your intentions could not be different from the other children.

The boy looked at you incredulously for a moment before getting up. Your smile grew wider, oh, was he going to open the window and say something? But then he pulled his curtains shut on you, blocking your sight into his room completely. Damn it. 

Well, that failed terrifically, but it was a bit stupid now that you thought of it. You sat down against a tree and tried to think of your next plan, unaware of the now slightly drawn curtain and curious red eyes peeking out of it.

—

Any other ideas you tried had failed, and you were not sure what to do. You had become aware that he was closed off, unwilling to interact with you or any others. But this had only made you far more interested in him. So, you had only one plan left - to go directly to the person who could tell you all. And so you knocked on the front door of his house, revealing a familiar face.

“Oh? Hello, my dear! What a pleasant surprise to see you, [Name]. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Hi, ma’am. You see, I, um, have a request. I need help with something.”

“Well, I’ll certainly do my best to help you then,” Zandik’s mom affirmed.

“I want to see Zandik,” you said bluntly, shocking the woman for a second. “I want to befriend him and talk to him.”

“I-I see. It’s not every day another child comes and asks for my son. He is a… peculiar case, after all, and he doesn’t like speaking to other people. Are you sure about this?”

“Please, I really do want to be his friend,” you said resolutely. Her face softened and she relented.

“Alright, my dear. I know he usually frequents this spot…” the woman gave in and gave you directions to where Zandik apparently spent much of his time. 

As you made your way there, you were a bit in awe of how he managed to find such a place. You never knew this route existed until now. Soon, after a bit of trekking, you found an opening that boasted lush grass and smooth stones, with trees surrounding it in a circle. It was quite pretty. And then that was when you saw Zandik in the middle, his teal hair matching the greenery. For a moment, you pondered over how to approach him, but you did not need to think long since he spoke first.

“How did you manage to find this place?” His voice echoed throughout the clearing, letting you know that you were spotted. You tentatively took a few more steps closer, his small body getting bigger.

“I asked your mom,” you began, “and she told me I could find you over here.” He let out a sigh.

“Admittedly, I did not expect you to go to such drastic lengths. You are more persistent than the lot of them,” Zandik acknowledged, though still not looking up from the rather complicated and thick book he was reading. Then, he snapped it shut and stood up. 

“So, what is the reason for your tireless pursuit? Perhaps you’ve come to ridicule me? Or are you here to see whether the rumors are genuine? Do tell, I am truly curious as to what would warrant such an extended hunt.”

You were a bit stunned at that whole statement, but you only had one thing to reply with. “I mean… it’s none of those. I just want to become your friend.”

A moment of silence passed before a chuckle broke it. Then, full-out laughter rang out, echoing throughout the forest. It was almost maniacal, and you couldn’t lie that it kind of scared you a bit, but you bit your lip and remained calm.

“Aha, hehe, why, I have not heard that one yet. How creative. I must say, they are getting better at these.” After that little outburst, Zandik returned to his previous sitting position and became absorbed in his book again. You were honestly unsure of how to react to that. Did the other kids truly pick on him that much, for him to think another wanting to become his friend was a lie? You stood there unmoving until Zandik spoke again in a dismissive tone.

“You can go now. It was amusing while it lasted,” he said disinterestedly, waving his hand. You were dumbfounded but determined, so you answered back very simply.

“No. No, I won’t leave,” you declared so firmly that the boy stiffened.

“No?”

“Yes, in fact, I’m going to come over there right now. You know I wasn’t joking in the first place?” you said rather calmly, trying to seem as serious about this as possible, taking steps toward him. 

He scowled, his attention drawn from his book once again. “No, you won’t. You won’t dare to come near me,” he stated just as firmly, having recalled how the other children wouldn’t even look at him. You grinned and picked up your pace until you were only a couple of footsteps away from him, and that was when he truly realized you were not joking. Zandik hastily tried to get up to avoid you but you dashed towards him, nearly tripping as you lowered yourself to a squatting position, becoming face to face with him.

You leaned in close to Zandik’s face, your nose almost touching his. His unique, red eyes held annoyance and a variety of other negative emotions, but there was something foreign in there too, which was the reason he didn’t pull away - confusion and curiosity. You smiled.

“Well now, hopefully you finally get it into that head of yours that you are now my friend. So, why don’t you tell me about what you’re reading?”

At first, he vehemently denied your friendly advances. He’d mock you, roll his eyes at you and such, or flat-out ignore you which was what he usually did. Zandik was honestly not very welcoming, which you began to expect at a certain point. But you persisted nonetheless. You followed him around no matter where he tried to go. You’d sit close to him but not too close. You’d speak sometimes and would either be met with silence or a sarcastic remark but you began to somewhat enjoy it. You’d stretch your neck to try and read the books he always brought with him in an attempt to better understand him. Though, the day he put the book on the ground so it could be read by both of you was the day you knew you won.

Zandik would always tell you not to come back, but you always came back of course. He’d roll his eyes and scoff at your tenacity, but you came to realize that he liked it. After all, he could very well just go to another hiding place, or arrive at a completely different time if he truly didn’t want to see you. He’d never admit it, but he warmed up to you. You also learned that Zandik really liked to talk. At first, when you would ask him questions about science, he wouldn’t respond but you could see him biting the inside of his lip, restraining himself from going on a tangent. It was the first time anyone had shown any real interest in him. Zandik would ramble on about many, many things, often transferring to a new topic in the blink of an eye. Even when he spoke about less-than-pleasant things, he looked to you all excitedly to hear your thoughts. When it came to those kinds of topics you satiated him with a smile, but you always voiced your thoughts as much as possible which pleased him greatly.

Eventually, you started to invite Zandik over to your house. His mom was positively ecstatic and encouraged this behavior. And yet you didn’t do what typical children did. He wanted to do experiments. Which did not really surprise you after everything was done and said. Despite being your age, he always spoke in such an… advanced way. It was hard to describe, but he always employed these big terms and used such proper grammar and language, something that was very uncharacteristic for a child. And experimented he did. Zandik’s experiments were not limited to mixing and combining different elements but also extended to you, somehow. He wanted a strand of your hair, your eyelash, a paper with your fingerprints all over it. What he used these for, you didn’t know.

Your own parents were scholars, so even though you didn’t see them very much, they left a multitude of advanced books and texts in the house. While you had never cared for them much, Zandik devoured them with ease. Even though you invited him to your house to talk and play together, there were times he’d just take one of the books and read for the whole time, shushing you whenever you tried to speak. You had to settle for simply sitting next to him and trying to follow along, which he… surprisingly did not mind. Under his breath, he’d mutter phrases like “Khaenri’ah” and “Visions” and “ruin machines” which frankly did not make much sense to you, but you always happily entertained him.

One day, Zandik wanted to go somewhere deep in the forest. You had played around there a couple of times, but you had never entered into the depths of it, heeding the warnings of danger from the adults. Naturally, you were a bit worried and scared, but you knew that Zandik would enter with or without you, for there was no length he wasn’t willing to go to cure his curiosity. Though he would not tell you why you were making this journey, you followed him nonetheless, until you reached an area with many damaged stones and pillars. As to how he found this location, you didn’t question it.

“There it is,” Zandik said almost breathlessly. You were confused at first but then you followed his line of sight, and then you saw it. A Ruin Guard sat on the ground, unmoving. Your jaw dropped as you had never seen one of them before, only hearing about their destructiveness from others and in books.

“So you came here to look at that?”

“Indeed. But we are not merely going to look. I’m going to investigate it.”

“Huh?! But what if it awakens and attacks us?” Even though the two of you were a good distance away, you could easily tell the Ruin Guard dwarfed your tiny bodies by a great amount.

“From what I’ve read and heard, it should be deactivated. There is no need to worry,” Zandik affirmed. 

“What do you mean by ‘should be’- hey, wait up!” Before you could finish your sentence, your friend had already made his way toward the Ruin Guard. You scrambled to catch up with him and soon enough you two were close to the robot. Both of you stood there for a bit, just taking in the sight until Zandik couldn’t hold back and approached the Automaton, circling around it, clearly fascinated.

Clink.

The two of you stiffened at the sound.

“Zandik… did you hear that?” He did not respond, but soon enough your question was answered as the eye of the Ruin Guard beamed awake.

Zandik could only stare in amazement as the complex machine glowed and lit up back to life. You were momentarily shocked but you quickly regained your senses and grabbed his hand to get away from there, because you two would be dead in a couple of seconds if you didn’t move. You had to literally drag him because the machine had him in an astonished stupor.

“I thought you said it was DEAD?!?!” you practically screamed at him as the Ruin Guard lowered itself to shoot missiles at you both. You managed to hide the two of you behind a small stone wall as the projectiles hit that instead. “And snap out of it!!”

“I suppose I have miscalculated.”

“You suppose?” Your voice had quieted down so as to not bring back the attention of the robot, which was now walking around the area since it had lost sight of you. “We need to leave before it spots us again.”

“No,” he disagreed. “We’ll incapacitate it ourselves.” It took you a few seconds to process what Zandik said to you.

“Are you crazy? Ah, never mind that. I already knew you were from a long time ago. But this is something far from our level!”

“I believe that we would be able to disable it.”

“Trained adventurers have died from that thing,” you insisted.

“We aren’t adventurers. We are better than them.”

“We’re children,” you deadpanned.

“Two intelligent children,” Zandik corrected you. For a second you were shocked that he called you smart, as you did not expect that sudden compliment. You always considered him the brains and you were… the supporter from the sidelines. “Furthermore, I have a plan.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Fine… what is it?”

“It is quite simple. First, you will hit the eye of the Ruin Guard twice to stun it, and while it’s knocked out, I will remove the core to deactivate it.”

“...Yeah. So simple, Zandik,” you said sarcastically. “And how do you suppose I manage to hit its eye? It’s extremely tall and my aim is nowhere that good.”

“I would not have brought up this idea if I did not think you were that incapable. You are quite useful to me,” he said straightforwardly. Boy, did Zandik have a very odd way of cheering you up.

“I… well, okay then. And you know how to get the core out of it?”

“I’ve read multiple passages of these machines in textbooks. I assume I have enough knowledge to do so.”

“I’m not going to even say anything. You owe me a play date after all of this,” you pouted. Zandik rolled his eyes begrudgingly.

“I suppose I can engage in your nonsensical childish activities when all of this is over. But just for an hour,” he proclaimed. You gleefully smiled, pleased to have won him over.

You didn’t care much for the Archons or Gods but you suppose they must have been watching over you because you eventually managed to stun it. Keyword: eventually - after whole minutes of running around dodging missiles and picking up random stones along the way, while Zandik sat there waiting for the right moment. You swear he was laughing at you. And true to his word, the young boy dismantled the machine’s core, rendering it unable to operate.

“Wow… I can’t believe we actually did that,” you mentioned, still in awe of it all.

“Of course we did. I would expect or accept nothing less. Now, come here. We have work to do.”

Somehow he had brought along small tools to try and dissemble the Ruin Guard. The red-eyed boy’s intelligence had always amazed you. Although it may seem boring to others, watching him fiddle was quite interesting for you. Zandik had also apparently appointed you as his assistant without informing you until now, so you always sat next to him. You made sure to keep an eye on what he did, for sometimes he would put his hand out and expect you to pass him a tool or screw without saying anything. At the end of the day, at least you could say the two of you had feats that no other child could claim to have accomplished.

It had gotten to the point where Zandik constantly wanted your presence around him, claiming that it would do you well to join him since you had nothing better to do. (He just didn’t want to admit he craved your attention and company.) You had accepted this with no complaints, having enjoyed spending time with him far more than your other friends. But you couldn’t deny that your friends were somewhat right about their thoughts towards Zandik - he cared little for others’ lives or feelings, was interested in things others would find disturbing, and even as a child you could tell he was not too right in the head. And yet his morals being concerningly low despite still being a kid, you could not bring yourself to care much. Heh, perhaps he was starting to influence you too.

Many years had passed since the two of you were little kids. Zandik had grown into a handsome, young, man. His mother was no longer in the picture, but the two of you were still together despite it all. And as much as you wanted to end your story off with a cliche everything was well, nothing could be farther from the truth. The atmosphere of your hometown had begun to grow tense. Why, you ask? Because of Zandik. The villagers had always not been the kindest to him, never fond of his rather strange ideas, though Zandik usually brushed it off with disinterest. But as he grew older, it seemed that the town’s dislike for him grew as well. And while you were a bit worried for him, you weren’t too concerned. You were sure the two of you would leave the place one day anyway. No way in your wildest dreams did you think you’d look outside your window and see people waving around pitchforks and clubs. And if that wasn’t bewildering enough, they were pointed toward Zandik.

You never scrambled to your feet and out the door so fast in your life, rushing to your dear friend’s side. His expression was unreadable when he saw you.

“Hey. Hey! What is this all about, huh?” you demanded to the crowd.

“He has to go. He is no longer a child, and so we no longer have any reason to have to harbor him here. He is a threat to this town,” someone spat.

“He’s never even hurt you,” you argued. “He never laid a hand on any of you. It was rather you who did that!” You think you heard Zandik whisper your name quietly.

“He’s a heretic,” another voice hissed. “He and his ideas do not belong here.” The clattering of pitchforks pitched in to agree. Zandik remained silent.

You gritted your teeth. You could see there was no point in arguing anymore. “Fine. Fine then. We didn’t even like it here anyway,” you fumed. In your spur of anger, you clasped your friend’s hand and practically dragged him in the opposite direction, blocking out the boos and mockery from the rest of the town.

Surprisingly, Zandik did not say a word throughout your little journey to who knew where, until you had to take a break from the sheer exhaustion. Embarrassingly, you had to release his hand that you had kept hostage the whole time, but Zandik seemed far less perturbed than you. Perhaps he saw it coming, with how assured his next statement was. 

“We shall attend the Akademiya.” Out of all the possible things he could have said, you did not expect that one for some reason.

“The A-Akademiya?”

“Yes,” Zandik said quite simply.

 “I mean, it’s not a bad idea but… the people there might be…” You did not finish your sentence, but you were referring to how the place could have a good amount of judgmental “scholars.”

He laughed bitterly. “After this morning, I highly doubt anything they do shall ever bother me.” You did not know what words would console him, so the only thing you offered was an agreeing nod and your silent presence.

“They did not exile you, [Name],” he said all of a sudden.

“It doesn’t matter. Getting rid of you would be the same thing as getting rid of me. I wouldn’t stay in a place where you aren’t,” you shrugged simply, placing your pinky over his own.

Zandik did not respond, but he didn’t move away.

—

The Akademiya was… an experience, for sure. It was many things all at once, the different Darshans and the beautiful architecture, the great looming trees. And the dorms were far nicer than you expected. At least they were spending their funds decently enough. So, the two of you settled into the scholarly life relatively easily. Zandik easily climbed to the top of his classes in no time, quickly garnering the attention of others and then losing it equally as fast when they encountered his prickly personality. There were always gossip and rumors floating about, many of which proclaimed Zandik to be a madman and a monster. And while he rarely ever showed any expression to these words, besides perhaps a roll of the eyes and chuckle or a scoff, you wondered if it really did bother him. As such, everyday life for you was being known as the normal person who hung out with the weirdo.

But, the years spent in the institution were ones you cherished deeply. You were close with your friend for many years, but perhaps staying together in such close quarters deepened the relationship. The two of you would sneak out after hours to do whatever Zandik demanded to be done. You were a bit iffier about breaking rules, but Zandik was firm on not letting anyone hold him back in his pursuit, so you began to think less of it. Many nights would pass by with the two of you staying up until unreasonable hours, whether it was studying together (or more like Zandik helping you study), or listening to him ramble on about his latest ideas and inventions. The strangest times were when he made you stay up despite not speaking at all. You would blink through bleary eyes as he remained silent, the only noise the clinking of bolts and nuts. In your heart, you liked to think he just liked your presence.

But the day you found out Zandik was to be expelled from the Akademiya was one you’d never forget. You knew he had a tendency to act without permission, to turn off others with his radical ideas, so perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised. You also had some knowledge of what happened in his expeditions with the team - almost everyone did, considering what happened with that girl - and you knew deep down what her true cause of death was. And Zandik knew that you knew too; you could feel it unspoken in his eyes when the subject matter was brought up briefly. You knew you were too far gone when you accepted it. But still, him being expelled was still a shocker. Yet the only thing he bemoaned was losing his space to work.

“It is quite literally your last night in this dorm and you’re sad about losing your progress on your experiments?” Actually, now that you thought about it, it was quite a Zandik thing to think.

“It was the only good thing about this place,” he shrugged. “It is too bad. I shall have to find somewhere else now.”

“They’re going to exile you to the desert, aren’t they?” you frowned. “That’s what they do with the expelled and mad scholars, no?” He nodded in agreement.

“You can’t go. You won’t be able to continue your kind of research there,” you argued.

“And what do you propose? That we fight them?”

“Yes! I’ll fight them! I’d ambush them or something!” you knew you sounded crazy by now but you couldn’t help it. The idea of no longer being with your childhood friend was tearing you in half. “You know, the matra stationed there keeps an eye on all of the scholars who were exiled there, in order to keep them in check. Even if you managed to escape, it won’t be easy to survive in such conditions and they could find you,” you insisted.

“Good thing you’re so eager to fight,” he chuckled. You knew what he was thinking when he laughed like that. “I have a plan.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Did you really think I’d go in there without preparation?” he scoffed. “In due time, I shall find a way to contact you.”

You sighed. “Alright, just… let me know who I have to fight later,” you responded. “And…” you trailed off, not knowing if you should verbalize your true worried feelings. He seemed to notice, and he contemplated, trying to figure out what to say.

“You need not worry about me, [Name]. We both shall be fine.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as they were things he would never say. But he did anyway.

And that was the last you saw of Zandik. But unbeknownst to either of you, he would be visited by a special man - the first Harbinger. 

—

You stood outside on the small balcony, gazing down at Sumeru’s city. You had managed to nab one of the dorms with the platform, much to the dismay of the other scholars. The two of you always loved seeing them fume, as they had to take their star gazing elsewhere. Neither you nor Zandik had cared much for the stars, but admittedly it was just… nice to feel the wind blow. 

Sleep had escaped you ever since Zandik left. Not hearing the usual metal clink and unscrewing noises, soft grunts, and occasional chair shifting from Dottore had left you unsettled and bothered. You had begun to think about whether you should continue to stay in the Akademiya. Zandik was no longer here, and the place crawled with rumors and gossip regarding him. You weren’t so popular anymore either, as the whispers even extended to you, his roommate who people began to question if you were truly innocent.

You had been feeling a bit lost in general since Zandik had been expelled. You were fully aware of the heinous things he had committed. You had come to terms that he was a criminal, and you were accomplice of sorts as well. Actually, the moment you decided to associate yourself with him was the moment you became not so good of a person. But that wasn’t what bothered you. What bothered you was Zandik’s absence.

Any normal person would have called you absolutely crazy for desiring such a madman’s presence. And you couldn’t blame them. They were right. Yet your heart could not let go of the man who you stuck with since childhood. You could not let go of the boy who scowled and doubted your intentions at first, the boy who eventually warmed up to you, the boy who demanded you be his test subject and assistant at the same time, the man who tutored you in science and maths and everything else, the man who stayed up to ungodly hours to tinker.

The man who you fell in love with.

The revelation was enough to make your knees weak, and suddenly the cold air was too much for your warming body. Quickly, you locked the doors to the balcony and stumbled onto your bed, rubbing your temples at this acknowledgment. Archons, how stupid were you? You were in love with someone whose character was… words you could not describe. Though you knew it all along. You just were scared to admit it. You internally cursed Zandik for doing this to you, as you knew you were too late to say anything. Not that you’d have a chance though, considering his whole outlook. He’d think that love was for fools only, a waste of time when he could pursue more fruitful endeavors. So all of this only caused you to miss him so terribly much more.

You missed his eyes - such a unique red that could only be compared to the one that flowed through living beings. You missed his hair - the softness that you only felt once, when you gently caressed the locks when you thought he was sleeping, but he grabbed your wrist so quickly it nearly scared the living daylights out of you. You missed his sharp and smart tongue that could put someone into their place in a matter of seconds. You missed everything about him.

But you shouldn’t sulk. No - you would not brood. If he was here, he’d probably be reprimanding you for being distracted when there was so much left to do. Sooner or later, you knew in your heart you would see him again and-

Knock-knock.

You bolted up at the series of knocks. Were you hearing things? Surely no one would be at your door this hour of the night. Did Zandik make you delusional now?

Knock-knock-knock.

Nope, you still had some of your sanity left. You swung your feet off the bed, about to head towards the door when a rather strange shadow blurred across the floor. It looked oddly like… a figure… at your balcony… Your heart pounded as you convinced your head to look up.

Zandik was on your balcony. How he managed to get up so many stories of the building, you had no clue. No longer did he don the Akademiya’s uniform, but clothes that were rather nice and expensive looking. It seemed your stupor lasted longer than his liking as he tapped impatiently on the glass door and pointed towards the lock.

Well, it seemed your reunion with him was happening sooner rather than later, that’s for sure. Quickly you scrambled to open the door and pull your beloved inside.

“Z-Zandik,” you sputtered, not believing your eyes. “I- what- how are you here? Did anyone see you? You have to leave, they’re going to catch you!” You fumbled over your words, fighting with the happiness of seeing your friend again but also concerned about him being caught. “What happened with the plan? What happened in the desert? What are you wearing? How did you-?”

Zandik quickly shut you up by tapping his newly gloved finger on your lips. “You must not speak so loudly. But you are correct, we do not have much time.”

“You’re r-right,” you agreed, lowering your tone. “But I just need at least some kind of explanation. Why and how did you come back…?”

“The Fatui has recruited me.”

“The Fatui?” you echoed softly, trying to remember what that was. A few seconds of thinking and remembering the daunting masked men and women who carried around weapons caused you to snap back to life. “The Fatui?!” you whisper-yelled. “Those scary people who always eyed us up when went into the forest and stuff?! I- ah, I won’t even question it anymore. Just… go on.” Zandik smirked at your halting.

“They have provided me with sufficient equipment and a space to work. We no longer have any reason to stay at this ignorant institution,” he declared. “And, from now on, I am to be called Dottore, a new Harbinger.”

“Dottore?” you repeated. “How clever,” you snorted at the irony of the name. “And… what do you mean by ‘we’?” your voice got quieter towards the end.

“I mean what I said. You shan’t stay here any longer.”

You already knew you were following him, but your chest twinged due to your recently newfound feelings. What if you somehow turned out to be a nuisance for him? Eternally distracted by this foolish love? 

“Oh really? And what makes you think I’d follow you so easily?” You don’t think he was expecting you to say that. He cleared his throat.

“I’ve already made it clear to the Jester I shall not work without a competent assistant. There is only one person who has proven themselves to be capable. I will not settle for anyone else,” Zandik stated resolutely. “And,” he paused, uncharacteristically unsure of how to voice what he wanted to say next. He had always been a man who would proclaim the most damning ideas with no remorse. Yet he had trouble formulating his thoughts because of you.

“You are… infuriating,” he began, making you raise your eyebrow. How charming of him. “Since that day in the forest, I knew you were going to be vexing. You would not bend to anything I said, would not leave me alone no matter the methods I used. Infuriating,” he repeated.

“But,” he very cautiously raised his hand to hover near your cheek, just barely making contact, “I never thought I’d become so… accustomed to you. I remember your habits and likes just as much as I remember those formulas you hated so. It’s laughable to think that almost all of my memories have you there somehow.”

“You are irking, but without your presence, I am strangely irritated myself, which is far more of a hindrance than I would have ever anticipated. Without you, I find my mind wandering - it is like nothing I have experienced before,” he finally cupped your cheek with hesitance, as if he himself was in disbelief at his own actions.

“I have known you almost all my life, yet I seem to still need more time to truly figure you out. I am not merely speaking as a scholar, but as… me,” he finished. Now, that was the last thing you expected from a man such as him. But he quickly regained his composure as he asked you the final question.

“Now,” he concluded. “What say you?” For all his talk of bravado and confidence, his hesitant show of affection revealed all the vulnerability that you desired to see and gave you the answer you needed. You placed your own hand over his one on your cheek, maintaining eye contact with him as he stiffened at the feeling of your skin against his, even if it was clothed. You moved closer to Zandik, until your chests were nearly touching. 

Zandik knew what you were going to do. Although the thought of such affection usually made him… ill and annoyed, he could not help but think that the feeling would be different if you were the one initiating. How would his body react? Would he enjoy it? Would he want to do it again?

You moved closer to his face, and without hesitation, you kissed him. Zandik was rigid, the foreign sensation of another’s lips against him was completely unfamiliar to him. But it seemed that the answer to his questions was a resounding ‘yes.’ You pulled away from him, trying to gauge his expression. You did not know too much about kissing, but you knew your newly found lover understood even less, which spurred you to continue. 

Running your hands down his firm arms, you leaned in again to nip and suck at his neck, drawing out a shudder from Zandik. He felt intoxicated by you all at once. He would be sure to write some notes on this later… they would be needed for further… research and experimental trials. He nuzzled his face into your soft locks, silently encouraging you to continue your course of action, eager to indulge in it with as much excitement as he would indulge in forbidden knowledge.

But then you released him with a pop of your lips. “Well, let’s not get too carried away,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want your new subordinates seeing you like this, hmm?” you straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles you created on his clothes. To say he felt bewildered and betrayed was an understatement.

“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for you,” you changed your tone to a soft, honest one, “Wherever you go, I shall go too. I decided that a long time ago, Zandik.” There was no need for either of you to say the three words that many others longed for. You knew that the relationship you now had with him was far stronger than a few mere words could describe.

Zandik quickly regained his composure. He would be sure to pay you back for your little stunt later. “Well then, there is much to be done. We have not a moment to waste,” he grinned, halfway out onto the balcony. “Take my hand, and we will be off,” he extended his arm, his gloved hand awaiting your own.

Taking his hand meant abandoning this current life. It meant embracing a new life that was far from morally right, one that should surely lead you to be despised by many. It meant becoming a part of the Fatui for Archon’s sake, an organization that was far from reputable. Zandik and [Name] would become lost to the world, the names only being remembered by the two of you in loving, soft-spoken whispers. Others would only know Dottore and his loyal assistant. If you took his hand, there was no going back… 

And yet with no hesitation, you placed your hand in his. 

[minarinnn]

content/trigger warnings: angst, tlt spoilers!!, slight manipulation, yelling, aggression, implied relationship, inspired on favorite crime but not really that noticiable

you knew. you knew from the start that luke was the lighting thief. even worse, you helped him.

you knew that it was wrong, that he was wrong. that the path he was taking wasn’t the right one. but how could you tell him that when he so lovingly asked you to help him with his plan??

it was torture for you, having to keep such a thing from everybody at camp. watching the new kid, who seemed so sweet and innocent, be blamed for it and sent on a dangerous quest. one that would likely kill him. then finding out from luke that they suspect clarisse, one of your closest friends, to be the lighting thief.

“luke, hasn’t this gone too far? i mean, what if something bad happens to clarisse??” you asked, completely worried for your friend. afraid of the god’s wrath, for they are not know for showing mercy. “too far?” luke scoffed, turning to look at you “you wanna be a slave for the gods until you drop dead?”. he was clearly offended by your statement. “there’s bound to be collateral damage”

you sat in a secluded part of the forest, barely crossing the camp border. everyone was celebrating percy’s accomplishment, y’know, stopping the war and all. luke had told you to wait there, he didn’t tell you what he was going to do, he never did. but you sure knew what you were gonna do.

it was time to get away from this mess. even if it meant losing luke, you didn’t wanna be a part of this. and to be completely honest, you’re not sure that was your luke anymore. he’d gotten so different, and you were so worried when you first noticed the change. but after he told you and asked you to join him, could you really say no?

what seemed to be a portal opened up from a nearby tree, luke stepped out of it. he was panicked, almost scared, sweat rolled down his forehead and his eyes were almost glossy. you got up so fast it was almost instinct. “luke?” “we’re leaving, right now” he spoke urgently, frantically looking around.

“i’m not going with you, luke” you felt your breath escaping your body. luke froze, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. his eyes are practically glued onto your face now, even more hurt than they were a moment ago. “what?” he breathed out, eyes and eyebrows narrowing at you in disbelief.

“i don't want to turn my back on my friends and watch them suffer" you could feel a lump building in your throat as you stare back at luke. "i know how much this hurts, believe me. but this path you're taking it’s.. it's not the right one. and deep down, i think you know that too..”.

luke’s face contorts into a mixture of pain and anger. "you’re wrong" he spat out "you don't understand. we’re fighting for something bigger than ourselves. we’re fighting for our freedom” you took a step back, trying to protect yourself from his anger and desperation. "i understand that" you said “but i just don’t think that this is the way to do it. you’re hurting people, people who used to be your friends.. you're putting yourself in danger”

luke let out a bitter laugh, his hands clenching into fists, knuckles practically white. "danger?" he scoffed "danger is all around us— we’re demigods, for heaven's sake! danger is part of our life. but at least i’m doing something about it, instead of just sitting back and waiting for inevitable death”

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill from your glossy eyes. luke stares back at you in and his eyes soften, his expression shifting from anger to sadness. "why do you have to make this so hard?" he whispers, voice breaking slightly “just come with me and we’ll finally be free from all of th-“ "i can't be a part of this anymore, luke.. i’m sorry”

"i thought you loved me" he spoke with sadness and bitterness in his voice, taking a step closer to you while his eyes travels through yours. “i do love you” you exclaim, tested finally streaming down your cheeks “and that’s exactly why i cant watch you do this to yourself”

luke’s expression froze as he processed your response. he was clearly hurt, but perhaps more so by the realization that he had lost your support. he had been so sure that you would choose to go with him, that you would stand by his side no matter what. but now he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the resolve within you.

"i see..” he says, voice barely above a whisper. his hands travel up to the side of your face and he pulls you in for one final kiss. the kiss is sweet yet the only thing you could both feel was regret, regret of leaving the person you love most behind.

“stay.. please, stay” you whisper. his sad eyes answer for him, and you close your eyes in disappointment. "i’ll miss you” he added, kissing the top of your head.

luke turned and disappeared through the portal, leaving you alone in the forest. as he walked away, you catch’d a glimpse of tears in his eyes, but he didn’t look back. you feel a pit in your stomach, a mix of guilt and anger, as you stand alone in the forest, unsure of what to do next. in your point of view, you were just collateral damage to him.

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[ileaveclawmarks]

An interview with Leslie Feinberg appearing in the Oct/Nov 1998 issue of On Our Backs.

Please click on image to read or find the transcript below:

Feinberg and hir activist peers have transformed the landscape of current queer politics: they have introduced "trans" (even into the mission statement of the National Organization for Women) as an umbrella term for transgender and transsexual persons. "Transgender" refers to any person whose gender expression appears at odds with his or ber biological sex, including transvestites, drag queens and kings, intersexed persons, "passing" men and women, feminine men, and masculine women. "Transsexual" refers to men and women who challenge the sex they were assigned at birth, whether they choose sex-reassignment surgery or not. Feminism popularized the distinction between "sex" (as biological sex) and "gender" (as the social expression of masculinity, androgyny, and femininity); the trans movement took this distinction to the streets.

Feinberg and hir activist peers have transformed the landscape of current queer politics: they have introduced "trans" (even into the mission statement of the National Organization for Women) as an umbrella term for transgender and transsexual persons. "Transgender" refers to any person whose gender expression appears at odds with his or ber biological sex, including transvestites, drag queens and kings, intersexed persons, "passing" men and women, feminine men, and masculine women. "Transsexual" refers to men and women who challenge the sex they were assigned at birth, whether they choose sex-reassignment surgery or not. Feminism popularized the distinction between "sex" (as biological sex) and "gender" (as the social expression of masculinity, androgyny, and femininity); the trans movement took this distinction to the streets.

Feinberg discusses her struggle with the health care system in hir new book, Trans Liberation: Beyond Pink or Blue. Released in October, Trans Liberation chronicles Feinberg's career as a public speaker and collects the addresses s/he delivered to a variety of groups, from Gay Pride organizers to straight male transvestites. We spoke with Feinberg about why sexual freedom is impossible without freedom of gender expression.

On Our Backs: Trans Liberation was released this fall. Can you tell us about what you're working on now?

Feinberg: I'm deep into a novel titled Drag King Dreams. It's about a working-class, Jewish trans person who has a foot in both the diverse trans communities and also the lesbian, gay, and bi communities. It's a book about figuring out what "home" means and who your people are. I'm also trying to write a fable titled "Tale of Two Hearts." it's really a love song to Minnie Bruce Pratt-my wife, my lover, and my friend. It's just one chorus of the love song I write to Minnie Bruce every day of my life.

On Our Backs: Your relationship with poet Minnie Bruce Pratt, thanks in part to her book S/he, is well known. What is your advice to those of us seeking a long term relationship as loving as yours?

Feinberg: I just know that for me, this is a relationship unlike any other I've ever had. I wasn't looking for a lifetime commitment when I met Minnie Bruce. I°d been dating nonmonogamously for quite a while, nothing serious. Minnie Bruce and I both did a lot of work individually to grow up, get sober and work hard at developing our political consciousness and activism. We were ready for each other. Ready to be loving, to communicate, and to listen.

On Our Backs: Pat Califia once wrote that she wishes there would come a time when we don't pick a sexual partner by his or her gender, but by other criteria, such as whether the person is a top or a bottom. In your ideal world, what would attract people to one another?

Feinberg: It's hard for me to hypothesize. In the world we live in, individuals do organize their preferences around gender expression. But a spectrum of sexuality existed in ancient societies that predated state. sponsored repression of human love. That leads me to think that these preferences might continue to exist in future societies in which no form of sex or gender is outlawed or demeaned. I don't think the problem today is preferences so much as prejudices. For example, I read personal ads in which people say "no druggies or butches need apply." Wow! That's preiudice. If you say in an ad that you're looking for someone feminine or androgynous or some other form of preference. that's very different from saving "no butches." As more and more prejudices are defeated, and in a world freed from divide-and-rule bigotry, people will be freer to explore their preferences about gender and about individuals.

On Our Backs: Do transgendered persons have sexual representation-pornography, erotic fiction, videos made for and by themselves?

Feinberg: Right now, there are many people trying to write erotica that bends gender. And I think it's very important. For many of us, it's very hard, never being able to identify with the sexuality we see everywhere in the dominant culture. [So] it was very important for me to write about sexuality in Stone Butch Blues. In the novel I'm working on now, I've been thinking a lot about how to write about sexuality that's not necessarily masculine or feminine, or gay or straight.

On Our Backs: What do you mean by "sexuality that's not necessarily masculine or feminine"?

Feinberg: I see masculinity and femininity as forms of gender expression. But a person's gender expression doesn't necessarily determine their sexuality. It doesn't determine whether you'll be attracted to someone of a similar gender expression or a dissimilar one. It doesn't mean you'll be sexually aggressive or submissive or both. That's what makes me so angry when I hear people derisively refer to someone as "thinks she's so butch but she rolls over in bed." It's an assumption that masculinity translates into being a top sexually. It limits the range of sexual expression of masculine females. And it's a sexual attack on someone who is, by virtue of their social oppression, already sexually wounded.

On Our Backs: Both sex scenes from Stone Butch Blues were excerpted for collections of lesbian erotica. Did you intend the scenes to be sexually arousing for readers - to be erotica - when you wrote them?

Feinberg: That's such an interesting question. I have to say that when I set out to write the sex scenes, I began to be aware of internalized censorship: "Can I or should I write about this or that?" So I consciously blocked out any thought of readers with this odd mental trick: I told myself that whatever I wrote, I didn't have to publish it. First write it, then decide. By doing that, I discovered that I could write about the kind of sex that i thought was true to the emotional makeup of the characters. If it was erotic for readers, I think it was because I was true to the characters themselves, so the sex was "real," if you know what I mean.

On Our Backs: Can sexuality exist without gender? Or is gender an essential component of sexuality?

Feinberg: Certainly everyone is gendered - quite complexly. And we infuse much of who we are, as gendered people, into our sexuality. But sexuality is so complicated by oppression right now that it's really hard to study it removed from its social soil. Jesse Helms defeated funding for a study that would have backed up much of what Kinsey revealed decades ago: that human sexuality is not two opposite poles- one normal, one not. Sexuality is on a spectrum, and many individuals move along that continuum during their lives. But lesbian, gay, and bisexual love is outlawed in the majority of states in the United States. So how can a truly objective, intensive study of sexuality even be conducted? It's like doing a study on religious beliefs and affiliations during the Nazi regime in Germany. So much of what we will learn about the relationship of gender and desire, as well as unraveling other questions about the matrix of sexuality, will be tied to the victories of our liberation of humanity from oppression altogether.

On Our Backs: In Trans Liberation you wrote about how frustrating it is voting for a two-party system when both parties are backed by big business. Do you vote? Should poor, queer, and trans people even bother voting?

Feinberg: Well, politics is about more than voting. It's also about finding ways to move people to action. In a particular situation, voting on an issue in an election or a candidate could help advance the movement. In general, though, I don't think voting for Republicans or Democrats - both supported by wings of corporate America, as are their parties - advances our struggle. I believe we need to build an independent liberation movement that's not tied down by waiting to see what happens in the next election. Everything our movement has ever won, including progressive legislation, has been won based on the strength of our struggle.

On Our Backs: Lesbians who accept transgender liberation in theory often balk at making alliances with transsexuals. Why is this so?

Feinberg: First and foremost, transsexual men and women helped build the modern lesbian, gay, and bisexual communities and movement. I know of at least one transsexual sister who fought the cops at Stonewall. They haven't always been recognized for their valuable contributions. But I believe strongly that those in the lesbian communities who are opposed to building coalitions with the diverse trans communities are just one current, and very often a minority current. The question is: Which current of any movement will lead? Those who seek to narrow the movement, or those who seek to broaden and strengthen its collective power?

*In this interview, On Our Backs refers to Feinberg with the pronouns "hir" (pronounced "here") and "s/he." We choose to do so because Feinberg has stressed that if society is to accept transgendered people, our language must expand as well. S/he gives as an example Ms., a common term now, but unacceptable before the women's movement.

Source.

[bbygirl-obi]

no, qui-gon did not kidnap anakin away from shmi, and he did not use shmi's position as a slave in order to coerce her to give anakin up. he made no attempts to request that shmi allow anakin to be trained at all, actually. he observed that anakin was force-sensitive, but that was it. there were no requests for her to send anakin to the jedi, or even suggestions that the jedi might be a better place for anakin. just a simple, neutral observation that anakin is likely force sensitive. after that, qui-gon allowed shmi to provide her own opinions about anakin's future.

it's shmi who volunteers the story of anakin's immaculate conception and says that she "can't explain what happened." she follows this comment by asking qui-gon, "can you help him?" which links qui-gon's assistance to anakin's status as a force-sensitive child. she is specifically asking for his help with regards to anakin being force sensitive, because he knows more about it than she does.

and later, once qui-gon informs her and anakin that he's managed to buy anakin's freedom, he makes no attempt to dictate or even suggest what shmi should decide with regards to her child's future. it's shmi who asks qui-gon "will you take him with you?" and it's shmi who asks qui-gon if anakin can "become a jedi."

shmi doesn't ask if qui-gon can find another home for anakin outside of the jedi; she specifically asks if he can be brought to the jedi temple. and it's because of that first conversation with qui-gon: it's because she acknowledges that anakin has unique needs that only the jedi can provide for. it's also because, as she later comments to anakin, she knows that being a jedi is "making your dreams come true." because she knows it's what anakin wants as well.

there's also hints that shmi is force-sensitive and is listening to the will of the force when making this decision; she makes comments about how qui-gon was "meant to help" anakin, about how her place is on tattooine, and about how anakin will "know what's right" by listening to his "feelings." all of these statements involve shmi being attuned to the will of the force and recognizing its influence over the events that unfold around her. there's an entire other essay to be written about how in her short amount of screentime shmi behaves entirely like a jedi, proving her love but not attachment to anakin twice over, but i haven't the space for it here.

lastly, it's shmi who first brings up the idea of anakin leaving her behind. she's the one who tells him to "let go" of her, and who tells him "don't look back." even once she is freed- which is implied to have been within 4 years of anakin leaving- she makes no attempt to contact him on coruscant, nor to travel to coruscant. she states in tpm that tattooine is where she's meant to be, and so there she remains even once she has the ability to choose otherwise.

tldr: shmi is the one who brought up jedi training, not qui-gon. she wanted anakin to learn from experts in the force, she knew anakin wanted it, and she is implied to understand that the force wanted it. she is a human being with agency, and she chose to let anakin be taken to the jedi in particular. and in all the years between when she was freed and when she died, she respected the space required by the jedi lifestyle and did not attempt to broach it.

[7ndipity]

Quiet

Hobi x Reader

Summary: Just a lil blurb about Hobi realizing that it's okay to not always be his sunshiny self around you.

Warnings: not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @seleneacyoflove for requesting this, as well as the lovely anon who sent this headcanon! This is short and kinda eh, but I hope you’ll still like it💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Quiet was something that Hobi had learned to avoid over the years. Quiet was awkward, quiet meant concerned glances and inquiries. In his work, quiet meant stagnation. Even on his own, he had come to dread the silence.

But after weeks of packed schedules and non-stop traveling and rehearsals, fatigue had finally weighed him down enough that nothing could possibly compel him to move from the place where he’d spent the better part of the last hour, resting heavily against your side on the sofa, head on your shoulder while your hands traced absent-minded patterns on his skin.

The two of you hadn’t gotten to spend any time together in weeks, but mercifully, you had managed to match up your schedules so that you had an entire weekend together to catch up and reconnect.

Normally he would be bouncing off the walls with excitement; no work, no worries, just you and him and two days of freedom to do whatever you wanted. And although he was happy to finally have time with you, he was so unbelievably tired that he found himself drifting, unable to find the energy to add much to your conversation throughout dinner, just quietly basking in the comforting rhythm and cadence of your voice.

Eventually though, you fell quiet as well, letting silence settle over the two of you as you cuddled together watching tv, his eyes on the screen but not taking in anything that was going on, his mind wandering further as a faint sense of guilt began to swirl in his stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He suddenly said in a quiet voice.

You looked down at him, confused. “For what?”

“For not being here.” He said, playing with your fingers as he avoided your eyes.

You intertwined your hand with his, stilling his movements.

“You are here.” You said gently.

He shook his head. “Not properly, not how I want to be.”

He was always known as everyone’s sunshine, their energy, their hope. But at moments like this, when he was so drained and distant, he felt like he was letting you down.

He was pulled from that train of thoughts by the feeling of your lips against his cheek, glancing up to meet your gaze, your face full of understanding.

“That’s okay. Everyone needs quiet time, there’s nothing wrong with that.” You said. “I don’t mind being like this with you.”

And in a way, it was such a simple statement, but the sense of relief that it caused to wash over him was so profound, it was like he could breathe properly for the first time in he didn’t know how long, his whole body relaxing back against you, letting his head slowly droop to rest on your shoulder again.

You were still looking at him with a small smile. “Is there anything you need me to do? Do you want to just go on to bed?”

He shook his head, snuggling closer to you.

“Can we stay here?” He asked. “At least for a little longer?”

“We can stay here as long as you want.” You replied, letting your fingers resume their previous activity, tracing tiny designs along his arm.

“Thank you.” He whispered, the silence that surrounded the two of you for once not feeling suffocating to him. Instead, it felt comforting, like slipping into bed at the end of a long day. It felt peaceful, safe.

“Anytime, baby.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Apparently, all it takes for a doomed man to feel hope again is bad flirting and corny jokes. Or maybe it's about the comforting presence of someone he loves?]

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Whether Gale wants it or not, he's a quite predictable person. His reliability seems to extend far enough for you to always be able to correctly guess where he might be when the wizard is not near his tent. Although his tendency for routines might be mistaken for something dull, you've always thought of it as somewhat comforting - that among all the chaos that your life has become, there's a sense of regularity; the comfort of knowing how to navigate certain situations.

Just as you knew he would, Gale is sitting by the riverside. His back is slouched as he mindlessly reaches to grab a blade of grass, tear it off, and let his fingers play with it. Brown eyes would be intently staring at the flowing stream if their owner wasn't so lost in thought.

He hears you coming, dry leaves crumble under your feet but he makes no effort to look over his shoulder. Maybe you're actually a wild raccoon that will finally put him out of his misery... On second thought, that is a rather pathetic end for a wizard as great as him. To die by a raccoon. Ha!

"Hey handsome, come here often?" you ask as you sit down next to him.

Gale's robes once smelled of musty books and seawater but during your travels, they have lost their original fragrance in favour of a fresh aroma of pine needles, campfire smoke and herbal medicine. It gave him an "edge", if such a word could coexist with the wizard's homebody way of life.

"Only when I wish to wallow in pity," he answers. Although it's fleeting, almost secretive, you do notice the glance he gives you.

You raise an eyebrow at his response. "And that's often?"

A sad chuckle rumbles in his chest. Gale looks down at his fingers, for the very first time studying what his hands do with the long blades of grass. "A lot more than I'd like to admit." He actually bothers to make himself sound light-hearted but the dread eating him up has already soaked into his words.

You put your elbow on your knee and rest your chin on top of your hand. The new angle allows you to see more of his face, not that it changes your impression. Something's eating him up. "Is this what pretty wizards frequently engage in? I think I ought to update my schedule."

He looks almost like a painting, you think. The one a cleric would put up at the temple, a depiction of martyrhood in the name of something greater. Normally, you'd shrug at the thought of some poor sod thinking that making themself suffer will somehow please their god. It sounds like a questionable freedom of choice at best. But in Gale's case, you can't just shrug. Not anymore. Not since the two of you made it very obvious there's nothing platonic going on.

"I think you'll find that a moping wizard is hardly treasured company."

"Then maybe I should help him stop moping." Playfully, you bump your shoulder into his.

A sad smile graces his face. His brown eyes give you a quick glance again. Gale just can't help his longing. "As much as I appreciate the thought and the effort," he tries to sound unbothered, "my troubles already take up enough of your time. The others might want to have a word with you too."

Not a thing about Gale's statement surprises you. He's always wearing a facade of "Don't worry about little old me" but having gotten closer to the man, you know he's far from that - he wants someone to worry, only doesn't have the pride to ask for that. Part of him probably thinks he ought to earn the right to take up the space in someone's mind. How silly.

Gale's eyes return to you when he sees your fingers sneaking between his hands and a blade of grass he was playing with. No matter what he might say and how laid back he attempts to appear, all of his half-hearted bluffs dissipate when he forms a tight grip around your fingers.

"And I want to have a few words with you," you tell him in round terms. "Well, I want to have many things with you but I guess I can settle for a good old-fashioned conversation."

"I, erm..." he hangs his voice at your allusion. The blush on his cheeks is barely visible in the darkness of the night but you can tell it's there - his whole body is suddenly on fire. Gale clears his throat. "Enlighten me, then! What sort of lexicon do you wish to bestow upon me?"

You can't help the whole-hearted chuckle that leaves your lips. "You're really adorable when you talk all sophisticated." Gale laughs nervously at the compliment and he's just about to say something back but before he gets the chance, you reveal the truth about your arrival. "On a more serious note, I didn't have any endgame plan. I just thought that I'm going to ask you what's on your mind and no matter what you answer, I'm going to bless you with my presence until one of us falls asleep."

For the first time this evening, Gale's eyes linger on you for a long while. Although his initial embarrassment at your boldness is now gone, a sense of nervousness lingers. But do not misunderstand - it's a welcome kind of tension; the anxiety of holding something dear and fearing breaking it. "I'd very much like that," he answers. A small smile of genuine happiness curves his lips.

Gale momentarily tenses up when you lay your head on his shoulder. Then, as though paradoxically a weight has been lifted from his back, he finds himself sighing.

Strangely enough, he feels... calm. Too caught up in his thoughts of impending doom and past failures, Gale has been oblivious to the good things in his life. Especially in the present. He tries to grasp at the fleeting thoughts he had been pitifully entertaining for the past hour or so but they escape his focus. Now that each of his breathes is filled with the smell of campfire smoke and fragrant oils that stuck to your skin, the doom that had been haunting him before dissipates like storm clouds blown away by the wind. Part of him wants to laugh - the morbid scenarios that once rendered him sleepless seem so trivial now. Gale was dealt a bloody difficult hand, yes, but that doesn't mean it's impossible to play it, does it?

He's known hope for a long time but only now does he see her. And what a wonder it is that she's wearing your face.

[solitaryearthperson]

I’m so lucky

Summary: The reader comes back to the compound to find an angry Klaus waiting for her.

(The reader is 18+ and uses she/her pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

Bloody 2 in the morning, Klaus mentally grumbled, as he continued to read from his book on the couch. Or at least, he tried to read from his book. His mind was racing with different thoughts of what you could be doing, and none of them were comforting in the slightest. "Who does she think she is," he muttered to himself, turning a page.

"Well, I think she's a woman, not a child." 

He didn't have to look up from his book to know that the statement came from Elijah and that his brother more than likely had an amused grin upon his face as he entered the room. "Has she not returned yet?" He asked, sitting down on the couch across from Klaus, amused at his brother's annoyance.

"No, she hasn't. Not one call or text." He tried to keep his annoyance out of his voice as he turned a page, not registering any of the words on it.

"She has to put up with this family and you, Niklaus. She deserves a night out."

"A night out ends when night ends," Klaus responded, giving up on reading his book and slamming it shut. "It is past midnight and now morning. She should be home."

Grinning, Elijah tried to not chuckle at his brother's frustration, but couldn't help letting a bit of it slip out which quickly caught the angry hybrid's attention.

"You find the worry for my love funny, Elijah," His voice began to rise as he watched the grin on Elijah's face grow.

"What I find funny, brother, is you forget that (Y/N) is a woman, not a child, who doesn't need your permission or approval on how late she returns. She can take care of herself."

"Always the feminist, Elijah," Klaus remarked, rolling his eyes. He took out his phone for the ninth time that night and checked the time again. Only 2:20. I'll leave and find her when its 2:30.

Even though Elijah was annoying him with his amusement, he knew that his older brother was right. At the beginning of your relationship, you made him agree that he wouldn't try to control you or become overprotective of you and let you have your freedom and at the time, he completely agreed, but he didn't think that that freedom involved you hanging out with your friends all night, leaving him worried. Each second that passed, he began to get more and more paranoid that something bad had happened to you.

"Let her enjoy a night out away from your scheming. She deserves it."

Yes, she does, Klaus mentally agreed, sighing.

"Yes. I admit she-"

The sound of a distant giggle stopped him and he quickly stood up from the couch and left the room to see you entering the compound, drunk and barefoot, holding the heels you were wearing earlier in your hand.

You were tiptoeing, letting out little giggles as you tried to be quiet. Your appearance was not that different from when you left, but Klaus could still spot a light sheen of sweat on your skin from all the dancing you did. Even though Klaus was ecstatic to see you again and to see you completely fine, he couldn't help but let his anger get the best of him as he made his way to you.

"Do you know what time it is," Klaus asked, his footsteps hurrying over to you with an angry frown upon his face.

Anyone else, when seeing that look on him, would have instantly become scared and begun cowering and apologizing, but not you. Even in your drunken state, you knew that Klaus would never hurt you and because of the alcohol still in your system, the only response you gave to his angry question was another giggle.

"You had me worried me sick," he continued, taking your heels out of your hand and placing his hand in yours. "Let's go to bed." He began pulling you in the direction of the stairs, but you quickly pulled your hand from his and hurried off to the kitchen.

"(Y/N)," he groaned, speeding after you and stopping in front of you before you could fully enter the kitchen.

"I'm hungry," you whined drunkenly. "I want a sandwich."

"You'll get your sandwich when you go to bed," he told you, ignoring the pout that grew onto your face at his words. He turned you around and gently nudged you to leave. "Go on."

Groaning, you took slow, sad steps towards the stairs, looking over your shoulder still pouting, giving him the best puppy dog eyes that you could make in your state.

"Love, go on," Klaus urged, trying to not to smile and give in to your pouting.

"I'm going," You said angrily, quickening your steps.

You didn't know it, but the look in Klaus' eyes as he watched you drunkenly walked barefoot to the room screamed nothing but love.

"I take it she had fun," the voice of his brother made him turn his eyes away from you (something he absolutely hated) and turned them on Elijah who looked at him, still amused.

"Yes, she did," Klaus sighed before turning around and entering the kitchen, placing your heels on the edge of the counter.

"What're you doing," Elijah asked, following him and taking a seat at the counter.

"Making the silly, drunk girl a sandwich."

His answer made Elijah smile even wider as he watched Klaus begin to pull out slices of bread and bologna and other things. Finally Niklaus has found his true love.

~

“Oh,” you groaned, opening your eyes and lifting your head. It was pounding terribly and you felt that your eyes were sore and heavy, even after waking up from sleep. Sitting up, you pushed the cover off your body, about to stand up, when you had to stop yourself, feeling an unpleasant rumbling in your stomach. 

Shit, you thought, placing a hand on your stomach. Another rumble made you get up from the bed, and run to the bathroom, quickly lifting the lid, and emptying your stomach of all contents from last night. 

You were too busy vomiting that you didn’t hear Klaus enter the bathroom. The sudden feeling of fingers in your hair and lifting it from your face made you look up to see your hybrid lover looking down at you with concern.

“You alright, love,” he asked. 

Seeing you nod, he grabbed some toilet tissue and wiped your face clean of any left over vomit, then flushed it. Gently holding your arm, he lifted you from the floor and walked you back to the bed, where he placed you on the bed. Before you could do it, he pulled the covers up and around you and you found that your sore eyes were beginning to feel heavy.

“Take this love,” he told you and you opened your eyes to see him holding a pill in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“What is it?”

“For your head.”

You picked it up and placed it in your mouth and drank the water, swallowing it with a wince as your throat now felt sore. 

“If you’re hungry, your sandwich is right there,” he told you pointing to beside you, and you looked over and saw sitting on the bedside table was the sandwich your drunkenly requested last night. 

I must’ve fell asleep, ‘fore I could eat it. Klaus lightly placed his hand onto your forehead, getting your attention and making you turn back to him.

“If you need me, I’ll be painting in the other room. Just say my name and I’ll come.”

With a kiss on your forehead and another look of love at you, he left your side and exited the room, leaving the door open to hear you.

Feeling your eyes get heavier and heavier, you began to slowly drift into sleep and as you did, you couldn’t control the smile that spread across your face as you thought of your boyfriend. Fuck, I’m so lucky.

[mazeinthemiroh]

skz reaction to there s/o have lots of tattoos (fluff pls) 🫶💕

stray kids reaction to their s/o having tattoos

genre: fluff

warnings: none

please like and reblog if you enjoy <33

bangchan

he would LOVE your tattoos. will spend forever and ever tracing his fingers of tattooed skin with a sparkle of admiration glimmering in his eye, a fond smile on his face. it's as if each day he's seeing them for the very first time, finding something new to appreciate about the way they look. in short, he lives them very much <3

minho

if you haven't gotten a cat tattoo he will express his deep and earnest disappointment. because... he just be like that. but seriously, he loves your tattoos. likes it when you show them off too instead of covering them up. he wants them to be ✨free✨, yk? finds himself staring at them and then denying it if you catch him out on it. he just thinks they're hella pretty!

changbin

it's the times when you're working out with him and your tattoos are on full display that he just melts inside. usually it wouldn't phase him but damn seeing you like this makes his mind wander to other things... thinks your tattoos are really sexy and will tell you every day without fail. with love a consistent king 🙌

hyunjin

he likes tattoos. admires them like pieces of artwork. because that's what they are to him. on your skin, they are art. he loves the freedom of expression and the different mediums of expressing oneself. the fact you found that through your tattoos makes him love and admire you even more. he likes knowing why you got them. the stories behind them. the deep meanings. everything.

han

thinks your look cool and badass and hot and loves your tattoos so much EEEEEEEEEE. you make him wanna get a tattoo so badly (he's kind of a wimp tho so it will take a lot of persuading and reassurance). just loves the way your tattoos look and tends to stare at them when he phases out and goes into a little daze. you let him look because, ay, what's the harm?

felix

before yall started dating, he was super intimidated and super attracted to you all at once. you're definitely the type he would want to get to know. and now that he had you? he can't help but tell you how awesome and cool he thinks your tattoos are. he wants to know why you get them and if you were going to get any more. may even give you some ideas for your next one!

seungmin

loves to absent-mindedly traces his fingertips along the designs of your tattoos when you guys are cuddled up to each other, staring at them, looking deep in thought. if you question him he will reply with a 'huh?', not even raising his head as he continues to stroke your designs. just loves how they look against your skin.

jeongin

definitely the type to get matching tattoos. like, that's just his thing. he has to. you like tattoos. and he likes you. it's a win-win situation! he thinks your tattoos are cool and pretty and wants to join in on the fun himself. he appreciates them as being a sort of... fashion statement, in a way. a definite way to express yourselves.

[streetsweepershenanigans]

One Day (An Icemav fic)

______________________________________________________________

"Why do you hate me?" Maverick asks one day, quiet and tired, staring into the depths of his locker.

"I don't." Ice says the words matter-of-factly, not looking up from his watch as he fastens it to his wrist.

"Why are you so mean, then?" Maverick feels almost five years old as he asks the question, but the scared, abandoned child within him can't hold it in any longer, he needs to know.

Ice looks at him, and before Maverick's very eyes, he watches as the coldness in the other man melts away. Ice is looking at him too, only instead of a pinched and hardened expression, he looks morose, almost sad.

"Because I can't let anyone know," Ice sighs.

"Know what?" Maverick feels entiteled to know.

"That I've fallen for you."

Maverick doesn't know what to say, when he'd first asked he hadn't been expecting a confession. He'd expected Ice to repeat his earlier statements about him being dangerous, conceited, full of himself, and thoughtless. But this- this was something else.

Not knowing what else to do, Maverick stepped over the bench dividing them in the locker room, and took Ice's face into his hands reverently. Closing his eyes, Maverick leaned in and pressed his lips to Ice's. Short, quick, and chaste as the kiss is, it conveys everything Maverick wants Ice to know that he can't convey with his words.

Stepping back again, Maverick looks up at Ice and feels something wild and raging between them settle at the love-sick look in Ice's eyes.

"We can't," Ice breathes, tears gathering in his eyes.

Maverick knows this, nodding in silent and reluctant agreement. They'd never get away with it, and it'd only end in pain for both of them.

"If things were different," Maverick looks back up into Ice's eyes, lost in the multitude of colors and emotions he finds there.

"If things were different," Ice agrees.

"One day." Maverick brushes his hand over Ice's shoulder, brushing the wrinkles from his uniform.

Swallowing roughly and fighting back tears at the unfairness of it all, Maverick nods once again jerkily and retreats from the locker room, feeling as though his very soul has been flayed open for the world to see.

(25 Years Later, September 2011)

Maverick sinks back into his seat as he watched the events play out on the news in front of him. Repealed. They'd repealed Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, Maverick waits for the wave of freedom the wash over him, unsure of what to do next. He gets the feeling that he should celebrate.

His phone buzzing with an incoming text message pulls him from his thoughts.

"Things are different." Maverick stares at Ice's message for a minute before replying.

"They are," he agrees. Times had certainly changed, and so had they. Maverick had remained the eternal bachelor thanks to his treacherous heart and the societal expectations the Navy had placed upon it. Ice himself had attempted to play as normal, but it had ultimately ended in the most gentle divorce Maverick had seen, and he'd seen his fair share of divorces being in the military. Maybe their stars had finally aligned, Maverick wondered.

The rolling series of dots appeared under his reply as Ice typed again.

"One day?" Ice's text pops up, followed closely by another. "If I'm not too late?"

Maverick scratches his ear and smiles before formulating a reply. "Friday, 1830."

"It's a date."

Maverick smiles down at his phone screen, unable to stop smiling, recalling the moment they'd shared in the locker room all those years ago.

[katsukismrs]

i wish i were heather.

platonic!katsuki bakugou x reader

a/n: if you can’t tell i’m not in the best mental state rn💀 inspired by Heather by Conan Gray. this isn’t my best piece but meh

warnings: y/n ran away from home due to abusive family, was left out a lot by friends, bakugou’s sort of the exception???

—

“You’re rich, Y/N! Literally if i were you, i’d be spending money everywhere!” Denki exclaimed in disappointment “And you don’t do anything with your money!”

“That’s called not being wise with money, Kaminari!” Ida disagreed wholeheartedly with Denki’s statement. “Y/N’s being completely reasonable with her money.”

Truth is, it isn’t that you can’t find a reason to spend your money, you donate to charity each month and take yourself and friends on shopping sprees. It’s just that the money feels.. empty. It has always been.

It was widely known that you spent the last years of your childhood and your first years of being a teenager in an orphanage, since you strongly disapproved of going back to that hell of a place your family calls home. You were 10 when you ran away from there, the day that marked your freedom.

But you can’t help but feel.. lonely.

Walking around in parks, malls, or any open space makes you see the life you can only dream of having. Children being pampered and loved by their parents can only make you feel like your skin doesn’t fit right over your bones, makes your legs eager to run somewhere far away to scream.

And unfortunately that has gotten to your UA classmates, too. Seeing Midoriya with his mother, seeing Bakugou with his parents, seeing everyone living the life you could never have. But they want to be you. It’s stupid to think about how they’ll trade a life full of security, love, support and happiness for having money and fame. but the grass on the other side is always greener, isn’t it?

There’s a side of you, that envies your classmates so much it could kill them, kill them for the life they potentially stole from you, but you know that isn’t the case and never will be.

And it isn’t with those in UA, either. But all your friends have something in common: they leave you, just like your parents did, just like everyone will.

Your friends left you for others, your best friends were never ‘forever’ as they say, and you hated that, and you hated yourself for it.

—

You sit in Katsuki’s dorm.

In silence.

With your thoughts. Disgusting, disgusting thoughts.

“I wish i were you, or anybody else.” You abruptly spoke.

“Hm?” He looked at you, perplexed. “What’d ya say?”

“i don’t want to be myself anymore.” you spoke.

“Who do you wanna be then? me?” He joked.

“I want to be anybody else but me.”

He turned to face you. “Because?”

“Everyone thinks i have it perfect because i have money.”

Katsuki stared at you, waiting for you to get to your point.

“But rectangular pieces of paper can’t love like a human can.” you spoke with a monotonous tone.

He waited for you to get to your point, staying silent.

I wish i were Jiro, who has supportive parents.

I wish i were Ochako, whom regardless of financial situation, her parents still love her anyways.

I wish i were Ida, whose brother adores him.

I wish i were Mina, who can make friends anywhere and everywhere.

I wish i were Kirishima, able to make friends stay.

I wish i were Shoto, whose father is trying to make up for the damage he caused him.

But all you can muster out is “I don’t want to be myself, i don’t want to be here as me, i want to be someone else, anybody.”

Katsuki looked at you. “You think you can have it your way every time in life, huh?” He laughed.

You looked up at him, tears threatening to fall as your throat begins tying itself into a knot.

Katsuki sighed “Listen, I’m not the type to come to for this verbal shit, but you’re pretty fuckin’ awesome as is.”

You didn’t believe him, you couldn’t believe him.

but maybe you could someday, but for now?

you wish you were Heather, or someone else who isn’t you.

—

[3xdni]

'*•.¸♡𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗'♡¸.•*'

NOT 100% PROOFREAD

Pairings: E!42 Miles x Black/Mixed Reader

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Heads up: Black-coded reader, swearing, kissing, high school age ranged, use of the 'n word, touchy miles, established relationships, toxic ex, neck holding, slight blood, slight violence

summary- you go to a party with your best friend post-breakup with your cheating boyfriend, only to see miles and end up 'thanking' him when he protects you from your ex after he presses you for ghosting him

You and your group of girls walked aimlessly down the halls of your school, chatting it up with your best friend who was rambling on about her new boyfriend. She went on and on about how fine he was and how he paid for everything she wanted.

"Girl, is this your man or your sugar daddy?" You snarked with a soft chuckle, lightly punching her arm.

"Oh god no," Y/B/N rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in disgust. " this my man for real, like we're getting married and everything!" She said smiling as you listened to the southern drawl roll off her tongue.

You and your friends couldn't stop yourselves from letting out a loud set of giggles as Y/B/N chanted throughout the halls about her delusions.

The way she talked about her new boyfriend reminded of the way you used to talk about your ex. So happy and oblivious to the asshole who you were hyping up. Always there for him when he was never there for you.

Once all of you made it to your respected lockers, Y/B/N suddenly came to a stop about her 'new husband' to give you a somewhat sad look.

"But anyway, how have you been since, ya know... the breakup?" You closed your locker with a sigh, planting your forehead against the cool metal. "I been aight I guess," you paused to look up at your best friend with an annoyed look. "but this nigga will not leave me the fuck alone!" Y/B/F let out a loud wheeze as you shut your eyes and dramatically wiped down your face with both hands.

"Ganke must still be tryna get back with you or sum?" You simply gave her a hard 'mhm' which she couldn't find more hilarious. "You know there's a party this saturday at Gwen's, you should come with me! We gon find you a new man, sis!" A couple of your other friends agreed with the idea of you going, just wanting you to have some fun.

You snickered at Y/B/N's remark. Giving it some thought, you wondered if you should make an appearance at this party. It had been awhile since you went to one and were actually able to mingle with who ever you wanted to.

Ever since you broke up with Ganke, you felt a since of new found freedom. Of course you loved and adored him when y'all were together, but you weren't stupid enough to stay with him after finding out he was texting other girls and trying to link with a mutual friend's girlfriend, miles. You rolled your eyes at the thought of him begging for you back now.

Solange chimed in from behind her locker to add that there were supposed to some many fine dudes there. Jacky gave you a firm nod to back up Solange's statement. "I bet if Miles was there you would say yes immediately." Your best friend teased and you just responded with the most lethal side eye you could muster. "Hey, don't look at me like that! You know Ian lyin'" She chuckled before finishing getting her bags completely out her locker.

Solange and Jackie were making a team effort to coax you into joining in on the party. They only wanted to see you happy, and all they knew was to dance and mingle their own problems away. They made multiple comments about how you're so young and 'We gotta enjoy it while it lasts'. Of course they wouldn't push you against your will, but a little convincing wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Girl it does not take that fuckin' long to think, come on please! We don't wanna go without you!" These poor girls were practically begging on their knees for you to attend this party with them. All you could do was look at Y/B/N with an amused smile on your face. Simply shaking your head in disbelief at your little group's excitement when you agreed to go.

‎・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Saturday rolled around and you sat as your best friend picked out what you thought was your best outfit.

You felt excitement bubbling in your stomach as continued putting on your last accessories and shiny lip gloss. The music that blasted throughout Y/B/N's room giving you a pregame effect sorta gave you a feeling of what tonight was gonna be like. You put on your favorite perfume and body lotion. Y/B/N squealed as she exclaimed how bad you were and quickly whipped out her phone to take pictures.

As your best friend held her phone up, a notification slide onto her phone.

• Solange👽💚hey... just found out ganke's at the party.. might wanna let y/n kno!!

Y/B/N quickly turned to look at you after the disappointing news. You sighed and gave her a half assed smile. "It's cool, Ian trippin and Ian finna let it bother me either." you shrugged you shoulders which released tension from Y/B/N's own shoulders.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way to the party. Staring through the windshield, lost in thought. 'What if Ganke was there?' multiple thoughts like this flooded into your head. 'What if he asks why haven't I been talking to him? What do I do if he tries to hurt me-' Your thoughts were immediately cut short by Jacky's pink acrylics wrapping around your hand. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, girl! We wouldn't tell you to come if we knew you wouldn't have a good time." She gave you a kind smile and you gave her the same.

You were hyped up the whole way over to the party, your best friend saying things like 'Girl you look good as fuck!' or 'You gon be taking everybody nigga'. However, when you were finally there you started to feel a little nervous. It had been a while since you were in the party scene but you knew you'd feel better once inside.

You walked through the big, glass door's of Gwen's home and it already reeked of underage drinking with an overpowering amount of horny teens. After giving your friends the green light to go dance and have some fun, you gravitated towards the kitchen. It was only slightly less crowded than the rest of the busy house.

You felt a hand grab your shoulder and felt Y/B/N yell in your ear over the loud music that she was gonna go look for her man, but she'd be back. You laughed and told her don't worry about it and you understood. After she ran of with her little boyfriend, you smelled a very familiar scent. You looked around the kitchen island you were currently leaning on and your eyes landed on you and Ganke's mutual friend, miles.

He was nose deep in his phone, ignoring the girls that would come up to him and quickly shooting down any interactions with his bluntness. You chuckled as you watched the failed attempts of even the prettiest girls in your school try to talk to miles. Making your way over to him, you hopped on the part of the counter right beside his arm.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt for Miles, even when you were with your ex, but you could never let it be known to anyone. You had a man and he had a girl, you both were off limits. Although, Ganke couldn't understand that much. Y/B/N would always poke fun at the fact that you picked the wrong friend throughout your relationship, and you couldn't help but feel she was right.

When Miles looked up at you, you noticed how close you two actually were. Taking in how handsome he was, looking at his lashes, the diamond studded ears, his signature braids, gold chain dangling on his chest, and those pretty lips that always caught your attention, you became lost in thought.

"Yo, Y/N what's good ma?" Miles cocked his head at you with slightly surprised face. He also seemed to notice the close proximity of you two, however not moving at all. Miles always felt that there was tension between the two of you. His girlfriend wasn't shit but his mom didn't know that and liked her, so he kept her around. That was done though, so Mr.Morales started making moves. He been plotting on you for a little minute now anyway.

You gave Miles and small smile and leaned back on your palms. "Shit, I been good, how you been though? I seen you and ole girl broke up." You asked giving Miles a knowing look. He gave you an amused 'mhm' and watched as your body stretched atop the counter, paying close attention on how your thighs seamed to squish against the cold marble. Miles looked you up and down while licking his dry lips.

"Nah man, we not together no more, but what about you and yo nigga? Thought y'all was cute and shit." Miles shrugged his shoulders, obviously returning your teasing. You rolled your eyes at the comment, not really caring about the subject anymore. All that mattered was that you were single, and he was single.

"So whachu doin' here? This doesn't really seem like your scene." You asked Miles while taking a sip of the drink you had just poured. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the side of the cup and drank from it.

"A couple of friends wanted me to come, Ian really studyin' this party though." Miles responded, taking large gulps of his own drink.

You watched Miles' adam's apple bob up and down as he drank the alcohol, causing you to shift your focus and forget that you needed to project your voice. When you tried to tell Miles that it was the same for you, you spoke in a low, quiet voice.

He looked at you for a second, trying to put together your words but ultimately failed. The boy moved increasingly close to your neck and you shivered as you felt his breath fan against your ear.

"Que dijiste bebe? I can't hear you, speak up." You could only hope that Miles wasn't aware of the effect he had on you. He just couldn't hear you over the music and loud voices, that was all. Right?

You tried to play it off with a simple 'My bad' and repeated yourself louder this time. Miles smiled at you as he backed up just a little bit so you were face to face.

Even then, Miles couldn't help himself from continuously stealing looks at your outfit. You seem to just have popped out after Ganke fucked his girl. He started paying close attention to your lips, wondering why they looked so soft, why they just looked so..good?

You and miles moved well on into good conversation, catching up on each other, a couple of flirty remarks, and the inconsistent brushing of hands against thighs, hands touching hair, and just enjoying being in each other's presence. All was well until an unwanted but familiar face came into your side vision. You continued your conversation now looking at Ganke making his way over to the two of you.

You gave an exhausted sigh and dramatic eye roll as the one person you wouldn't let ruin your night apparently make it his mission to do just that.

"Yo, What's up Miles, Y/N?" He yelled loudly over the music, attempting to dap Miles up which he ignored. Ganke put up a friendly front but you could tell he had alternative motives. You just sat and stared at the boy while Miles replied with a dry 'Yo'.

"So this what we doin now, Y/N" Ganke looked at you with a stank face, motioning to you and Miles. Mood quickly switching just as you thought would happen. "Youn wanna answer my text or calls but you can come to parties with my homeboys now?" Your ex threw his free arm up in the arm in exasperation while his other one held his drink. "My mans, you was the one that cheated, not me? Ian even tryna talk about this right now, I'm havin' fun." You explained motioning to Miles which he returned with a sly smile.

"Oh so you having fun fuckin' on my homeboys?!" Ganke started to get louder, gaining more attention from the now forming crowd. "We not homeboys my nigga, you fucked that shit all the way up for you." Miles corrected with a deadpanned face.

Ganke was obviously drunk because there was noway anybody in there right mind that would come up to you like this. You weren't necessarily scary but people knew not to disrespect you. When he attempted come stumble closer to you, Miles quickly straightened up and put himself between the two of you. Leaning back on your knees while giving him a warning.

"Aye man you need to chill out with allat, you doing way too much." You felt as if you could handle the situation yourself, but it made your attraction towards Miles grow to see him so protective. "Nah bruh, youn tell me what to do, that's my bitch-" And as soon as he let the word slip, Miles damn near knocked his tooth out.

Ganke fell to the floor with a dazed look and blood dripping from his mouth. Miles was raised by his mama, he knew not to tolerate disrespect towards women. Audible gasps and a collective 'Damn!' was heard around the kitchen.

You looked into the crowd and spotted a drunk Solange and sober Jacky rushing to the front of it. Solange let out a load, obnoxious laugh. "You just got knocked the fuck out!" Jacky laughed uncontrollably trying to steady her friend.

Your 'knight in shining armor' turned to you after spitting on the already hurt kid. He walked over to the counter and started to gather his belongings.

"Man fuck this shit, you tryna get outta here." The tall boy patted his pockets for his keys and pointed a thumb towards the door. "Yeah let's go." You quickly hopped off the counter to walk with Miles, barely sparing a glance at Ganke.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

10 times outta 9 I know your lyin' but 9 times outta 10 I know your tryin' to be there

You rode down the highway, windows down and 'Love Drought' by Beyoncé playing on the radio. You were lost in your thoughts about the previous events until you felt a large hand lay across your thigh. The action felt kinda familiar. Looking from out the window, to the hand, and then at Miles you couldn't help but smile and blush a bit.

You were a bit confused as to how he manage to act like he didn't just almost knock someone out. That's not to say you didn't mind the extra attention. Feeling his grip on your thigh just made your stomach turn in the right way. You wanted to talk but there was so much to say and nothing to say at the same time.

Before you could even mutter a word however, Miles broke the air. "So what's up with him, man? Why he trippin' on you so hard, ma?" His eyes stayed on the road but you knew you had his full attention. He was a somewhat responsible driver after all.

"He just got an attitude 'cuz I won't talk to him no more. Ian tryna deal with allat for real." Shrugging your shoulders, you gave Miles a side glance. Now that it was just the two of you, you couldn't help but see how good he looked in his tight black T-shirt, khaki cargo pants, and fresh pair of jays. His jewelry shined in the street lights. He just looked so damn good right now, you could practically feel yourself drooling.

"You sum special, ya know?"

"Hm? Whachu mean?"

"Nah Im just sayin, Ion go around bussin folks in they shit like that for random girls." Miles smiled with his eyes still on the road before him. You just adored the way he was showcasing his dimples off to you right now.

"But you would do it for me though." You giggled at the end of your sentence, appreciating the compliment.

"Anything for you, mi corazón " Although you knew it was a bit of an exaggeration, as this was only the beginning of y'all's relationship, you still felt comfort by his words.

Feelings grew between you two as you watched each other silently over the years. He fell in love with every little thing you did, as so did you with him. You noticed every tiny quirk and habit he had, and just thought he was so fine. It was crazy to everyone that you two didn't start dating each other instead of your ex's.

You felt his hand brush farther into you skirt and squeeze a little harder, all you could do was sigh into his touch. Miles let a deep chuckle slip from his lips and you could feel your face heat up. "Ni siquiera puedo creer que saliste con su lamentable trasero, you know you could do better right, mamas?" You squeezed your thighs slightly at the nick name, which Miles very much noticed.

Of course you didn't want to give in to him just yet, so you beat around the bush. "Yeah I guess, I mean Ion really talk to anybody though. Ian really met a lot of real niggas." You faked oblivion to Miles obvious attempt to get at you.

Suddenly turning down a back road, and driving into an empty, grass area atop a hill, Miles turned to look at you. "That's 'cuz you ain't been talkin' to me, my heart." His accent rolled off his tongue and into your heart. He couldn't help but stare into your pretty eyes, and glance at your pretty, glossed lips. They looked so plump and full, all he wanted was a little taste.

Miles grabbed you by top of your neck softly, causing you to let out a breathy 'Miles'. He couldn't help himself. You just looked so gorgeous in your little outfit tonight, he was grateful to god that he sent an angel like you to him tonight. The two of you tilted your heads in unison closing the gap between you.

Your gloss smeared across Miles' lips as he pressed into yours roughly. When he pulled you closer by your neck, you had no choose but to place a hand on his thigh to help you balance yourself. This caused him to groan which gave you an opportunity you had to take. You snaked your tongue into Miles' sweet mouth, moaning into the kiss as his grip on your neck tightens.

Miles started moving his free hand down your back and onto the cusp of your ass, giving it a firm slap. He broke away from your lips to move his face into the parts of your neck uncovered by his large, rough hand. After leaving multiple kisses, licks, and hickies on your neck, he pulled you over the middle console and onto his lap.

Miles rubbed your ass through your mini skirt, like he was touch starved. His lips returned to yours as he muttered the words "Let me treat you right, baby. Fuck these other niggas."

You just look this boy deeply in his eyes, trying not to fall for him even harder in that moment. You leaned down to plant a kiss on Miles' lips but he held you in place by your neck. "You gon' gimme an answer, pretty girl? Ian solo tratando de joderte, te necesito mala, mi hermosa.." Miles trailed off seemingly entranced by you.

You swear you could die with all the pet names he was giving you. "You gotta promise though, we gotta keep it together, baby"

"Oh we gon stay together, I promise."

[din0lover]

Funny post of all the little "ghosties" talking moments in the captions

(It's ccbbh but also there might be some missing I did the best I could in trying to get it all lol enjoy!)

-

Signs of Pomme and Ramon

/

"Fudge I missed the sign"

"Maybe bad should stay dead a bit longer"

"Stress never killed anybody, except for the people it did"

"Isn't that cannibalism " (referring to pomme apple die comment)

-

Zinc cave

"Richas is going to die" (richas digging straight down)

" Oh Fudge not this one" (referring to cave they went into go collect zinc)

"This is limestone not zinc"

"Look how pretty"

"Let's go mine proceeds to mine limestone"

"These statements are now canonical ghosty thoughts"

"The block looks chewable" (referring to the limestone block)

/

"Canonical ghosty bathroom break"

"And canonically left alone" (after he got back from the bathroom break)

/

"There are going to be so mad at us when the eggs die" (after richas digs straight down deeper into the cave)

"Ghosties have bad hand eye coordination" (after falling in lava)

"50 zinc that's enough to make 1/10 of a drill"

"Free stuff"

"Lucy what are you doing over there"

"Later peasants I'm warping away, what the Fudge, that's crazy" (referring to richas warping out of the cave)

-

Leaving Zinc Cave

"All your stones belongs to me"

"Give me your stone I'm going to eat it all"

"Nom nom nom nom nom nom"

(ramon and pomme digging up out of the cave)

/

"Well this is the end for me I'm afraid"

"Should've taken those swimming lessons"

(Water bucket was placed down for a split second this guy is so dramatic LOL)

/

"You know, I'm holding sugar cane, it's magic, but why am I holding sugar cane? Is it a coincidence Or is there a higher meaning to it? Not even caption viewers will find out"

/

"Yep some of you realized all stream it was me reading the signs."

"Yep what you thought it was magic?, no I was reading them."

"The entire time thats where the captions come from."

"No way /j"

"The poor people without the captions right now."

/

That's it Ramon takes one call, I'm going to narrate their actions"

"Pomme looks around aimlessly "

"Ramon thinks I'm done cave mining it's probably best to leave"

"Pomme thinks Fudge dirt that means we're close to the surface but I hate digging through it."

"Don't worry we're good"

"Now it's off to do more adventuring"

"Sorry I'll stop being silly"

-

Finally out of the Zinc Cave

"You got this

You got this

You got this

You got this

You got this

You can do it"

"Freedom of fudge, worst ad time ever"

"Actually no we had some horribly timed ads."

"Dumbo, the moon, why did it translate it to that? I think there was a mistranslation chat."

"And pomme sacrifices Ramon to the squids" (Ramon fell out of the boat)

"Hey guys maybe we should take that zinc to Badboyhalo house instead"

-

Repairing the town of Fobo farm

/

Richas : "I mean I am not human I don't know, that works with tio dad and my dad's"

Ccbbh aka "ghosties" : "he's onto something "

/

"Huh bird"

"Nosy ghosties"

"Lucy Hi"

"So wholesome"

/

"3 minutes till restart"

"One minute before void"

"Toxic not the backup"

"The lore killer"

/

"Sometimes I still hear his voice" (referring to bbh it's almost like we can still hear him in the after life)

/

"There comes a day in every pet owners life" (referring to richas killing his caged amethyst crab)

/

"It is a good way to keep memories, if only bad was doing that." (That vile man he needs to be put in a panini press)

/

"I'm running out of sad music"

/

"Guys stop trolling the Chatters and telling them I died IRL"

"I can still hear his voice"

/

-

Group hug for all

/

"And it's a group hug"

"Get down here richas it's group hug time"

"Oh my gosh he is dying"

"Okay now he is good"

"Group hug richas, don't let him go up"

"Don't let him wiggle his way up there"

/

"He can't get away from The Angst train,there's a train and it's full angst"

"I love angst"

"I'm going to be honest this has been a very wholesome night but it is a lot of angst."

"Choo Choo"

-

Richas getting down again

/

"Crazy people oh my gosh"

"Gave me a heart attack right now"

"Oh my gosh they actually just trying to kill him in front of me"

"That's crazy"

"Where's you armor ?! He's not wearing armor!"

"Oh my gosh just let him die, finish him now"

"That be the worst time for a creeper to just slither its way and explode right next to them "

"Like actual nightmare fuel"

"You're going to give me a heart attack"

"He's going to die chat like if we don't see the death and no one else is online it doesn't really happen."

"It's like a tree that falls in the forest, and no one around here it doesn't make a noise."

"Pretty sure that's how it works chat mathematically "

-

Slight BBH love <3<3

- "I'm sorry chat thus has been a long stream, I'm trying to keep myself chucking along, I'm enjoying it but it is a long stream."

"Two really long streams in a row"

(Peace and love ccbbh thanks for the long streams with the eggs and other memes <3<3)

-

Back to richas and his vendetta against group hugs

/

"Rebel Richas, no hugs, hugs are for the weak"

/

"Oh my gosh they're going to actually kill him, I need to make sure to look away before he dies"

*looks away*

"There we go"

"If I dont see the death it doesn't count"

/

"This is like a slightly unhinged nature documentary "

"Bros really going to fall and die literally if he's not careful oh my gosh"

/

*commentating*

"Quick everyone lets vandalize their building even more."

/

"Oh my gosh please just don't do it."

"He's going to drown."

"No don't die drowning underwater it will kill you instantly "

"Stop"

/

"Bro really said that I'm going to maybe die someday and choose that day to be today."

"He's crazy chat, oh my goodness."

"Oh my goodness please holy crap."

"Let me build or I will die, thats your only two choices here" (even after death bbh still having beef with richas that's crazy)

/

"Yippee!"

/

"Bro better-" ( looking to see if richas is wearing armor and then proceeds to find out he's wearing diamond pants)

"I've been wearing pants this whole time. "

"Someone who doesn't have their cosmetic armor off and they just see pants walking around."

/

"Mimi"

-

Back home

/

"Confused but following "

"Where am i?"

"He's still not wearing armor either "

-

Fin (I just realized that didn't bbh say he be recording his audio too? I just transcript all this for nothing I'm done on a serious note though it was fun to read the captions and hope you find slight entertainment in what I was able to capture lmk if I missed any which I probs did well im off) (also forgive me if I did some misspelling I did this really late)

Extra clip:

[holdmeiamscared]

OMNIPOTENT— homelander x reader #2

this is part two to my first bullshit rambling that you can find here: homelander x reader

the start of this picks up like a month after where the first one left off. this one is also ~3k words so like grab a snack 😬

⚠️: pre-season one, CANNON DIVERGENCE, threats of bodily harm, reader is more fem! presenting in this one but only in the beginning and during the sex part, reader is fuckin’ unhinged, reader is the guardian of their nephew (who is named in the fic), reader’s whole immediate family (minus their nephew) is deceased, homelander is his own warning, intercourse, oral (homelander eats pussy don’t argue with me)— fem bodied reader, praise, homelander’s mommy kink is in full swing now (soft dom! reader), homelander is still literally obsessed, reader is a jealous bitch, homelander and reader are toxic together, reader is in a fist fight with their feelings for homelander (reader loses), Madelyn Stillwell is manipulative, and also prolly (definitely) fucked homelander.

when you were still young, toeing on the line of being a woman, but still not old enough people treated you like one, your grandmother explained to you why she gained the nerve to finally leave your grandfather.

you were innocent then, bright eyed and unaware of how the real world hurt. you were unaware of how it would break you— how it would turn you into someone you barely recognize.

she had told you then, as a warning of some sort, “a golden cage, is still just a cage.” she looked sick to her stomach when she’d said it. the look in her eyes, the one you hadn’t understood all those years ago, it haunted you now— every night.

she’d died before she could see the woman you had become— before she could see the rest of your family die off slowly. some fucked up part of you was glad for that, your grandmother was a saint— she wouldn’t have deserved that pain.

but part of you was also jealous of her— she was spared the heartbreak of it all. she didn’t have to witness death after death after death, and she didn’t have to witness you lose your freedom.

but now, as an adult in a very tricky situation, you understood what she meant about golden cages.

the homelander hadn’t locked you up though, at least, not yet.

he let you keep living the way you had before— let you keep your freedom, but maybe that was somehow worse.

the fear of doing something to upset him, doing something to make him irrational, was always present. like you were walking on a microscopic trip wire— one that was attached to the biggest bomb known to man.

but still, he was so good to you, good to Jaxon. he was everything you could have imagined your spouse to be when you were a child, if you ignored the homicidal tendencies, of course.

despite all of his flaws, he wanted you; he loved you and Jaxon— he took care of the both of you. John was part of your family now, he was part of you, he was part of Jax.

he was ingrained in both of your lives— like a parasite.

sure, the homelander was a full-fledged psychopath, but he was yours.

maybe a golden cage wasn’t so bad when it came hand in hand with love— with family.

————

you were sure of one thing, and one thing alone— you didn’t like Madelyn Stillwell, not one fucking bit.

you hadn’t known her well enough before John to make such a brave statement, you still didn’t if you were honest, and despite your fear of sounding envious— you couldn’t help but to think of her as a snake in the fucking grass. venomous— just fucking dangerous.

somehow, she’d dug her manicured nails right into the homelander’s rib cage— and you wanted them out.

today was one of the scariest days of your life, to date. homelander had corralled you into a corner and declared that you two were now official. he didn’t even ask you— he told you, and you had hastily agreed in fear of upsetting him.

homelander kissed you breathless after you hesitantly agreed, the heat of his cock dragging along the length of your thigh, likely a desperate tease—after all, you hadn't fucked him since the first time, almost a month ago.

if the way he jerked when your hands groped at his biceps told you anything, it was that he was losing every lingering shred of his patience. he wanted you again and it made you dizzy— it made you delirious. you were drunk off the very thought of him pleading for you like he had before.

John pulled back as quickly as he started, hips grinding into you one last time, almost involuntarily. he heaved a sigh of your name— all rumpled and looking thoroughly kissed. you melted at the sight, humming happily up at him.

once the heat had vanished from under your skin, the first thing you wanted to do was tell Jaxon— he would be fucking ecstatic that you were finally in a proper relationship with the homelander.

however, the first thing John wanted to do was tell everyone. he wanted the whole fucking world to know who you were, who you loved— who you were loved by.

he was practically dragging you to her office before you knew it, all long limbs and pushy words about how he loved you, about how he wanted to show you off to the world— how it was only fair because you’re his now.

even as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the correct floor— he was still speaking about how the two of you looked so fucking good together and how his fans deserved to see you, on his arm—where you belonged.

the ranting had continued right into her office, and Madelyn had forced a smile in your direction after homelander finished speaking.

she stood quickly, pausing to smooth the wrinkles in her pretty little dress, and once she had collected herself, she sternly told John— absolutely not. the tone she used left no room for question, she wouldn’t allow this— you and the homelander could never be together in public.

she said it with a sweet, motherly smile— and it made you sick. you can still recall the exact look in John’s eyes when she told him he could never go public with you, of all people.

she had said your name incorrectly, motioning to you with a vague indifference, and it made your blood run cold. that icy feeling in your veins didn't last long, because John corrected her on your name sharply.

you almost preened for him—almost.

she had nodded along, like she actually cared, before starting on a long-winded rant about how this was an awful idea.

she said you would ruin his image, that just being seen with you would drop him in the polls. she said he would lose his adoring fans, that they would think he was lesser than he was— because he fell in love with a nobody.

you didn’t like how sharp her words were— you didn't like how much they bothered you.

you didn’t like that she was looking down her nose at you— like you were insignificant.

you didn't like her.

that mean snear, the same one you’d used on homelander, the same one you had mastered when your grandmother died, masked the hurt on your face— this bitch didn’t even know you. how fucking dare she.

you were expecting John to explode into a rage, after all, if the homelander was anything, it was unreasonable— but he didn’t.

you had braced yourself for war, already mapping a way to escape, looking for a place to hide— but he didn’t do anything.

that almost hurt more than being talked to like you were lesser.

the way he so easily gave up on his plan to announce you as the love of his life— it made something churn in your stomach, something bitter.

and despite the way her words stung, the way it hurt that homelander didn’t fight for it, for you— you were happy with the decision to keep your relationship under wraps.

it was better this way— for the sake of Jaxon’s privacy. you’d explained that to homelander later— you wanted Jaxon to be normal. you didn’t want him to worry about people wanting to be his friend for what he had, for who he was.

“can you imagine how children would react if homelander’s self-declared nephew was in their class?” a smug grin pulls at his pretty lips, “he’d be the coolest kid in that whole fucking shitty school.” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “they’d use him, John. he wouldn’t have any real friends.”

but that look in homelander’s eyes, it haunted you, it haunted you just like that look your grandmother gave you all those years ago.

that very night, his eyes take the place of your grandmother's.

the emotion in his eyes when he looked at her wares at you until you’re angry enough it fucking aches.

he looked so complicit, and all you can think about is that he looked at you like that once— when he was under you.

you didn't let John know that you saw it, but it eats at you.

it tears into you, burrowing fury into your skin all night long— it worms its way into your chest until you feel like you aren’t good enough.

you hate that feeling.

you decide that the homelander has a thing for Madelyn Stillwell.

and you don’t fucking like that.

————

the next day comes with more feelings you thought you would never experience for homelander.

when you notice Madelyn heading your way, you can't help the way your grip tightens against homelander's arm.

she looks happy, at least that’s how she appears in your mind, as she greets him with a smile, “thank you for having dinner with me last night, homelander.”

if homelander notices the way you stiffen next to him— he doesn’t show it. rage pools in your stomach, burning you up from the inside out— so hot it hurts. that bastard.

John had shown up late to your so called ‘family dinner’ last night. he’d made idle conversation with Jaxon about school, picking at his plate until you worried you had made him something he didn’t like.

now this, this made fucking sense.

he’d already eaten.

your blood pressure is on the rise, and this time— you know he knows. his free hand rubs at the one you have gripping at his forearm. it's an attempt to calm you, to quell your worries.

it doesn’t work.

all you feel is acid-soaked hostility and white-hot hatefulness rising from a pit you swore you’d locked up long ago.

you shake off the homelander’s grip, muttering about how you should be going back to work, and you hurry your way through the halls until you’re far enough away you can’t taste the anger anymore.

when you recline against a wall, steading your breathing, you try to remind yourself that you’re trapped with him— that he won’t let you go. you remind yourself that your love for him is fake— that you are nothing but a little bird, locked in your pretty golden cage.

but those thoughts, as true as they are, they don’t help.

later that day, despite your internal struggle, the petty part of you— the part that wants revenge, wins.

you pick Jaxon up from school, settling him in the back of your car with nothing but smiles and light laughter. then, when he asks you what you are planning for dinner, you answer him easily, one of your saccharine smiles pulling at your lips until your cheeks hurt, "i thought we would go out somewhere tonight. wherever you want, baby."

Jaxon asks if Uncle John will be there, and you have to fight off your smug grin. no, he won't. he can't be seen in public with you.

you and Jaxon are both nobodies, after all.

if the homelander wants to play— you can fucking play.

————

you only realize how stupid you are when you pulled into the drive of your ratty old house, hours after you were supposed to have dinner together.

you notice quickly that the kitchen light is on, and you can only imagine how much trouble you've gotten yourself into.

you let Jax go in first, let him greet homelander happily.

Jaxon is all smiles and hugs for his dear Uncle fucking John and despite yourself, when you catch sight of him, your anger dissipates. you greet him the same way you always do, with a sweet kiss and a murmured, 'hi, sweetheart.'

he's tense tonight— pulling you into a solid hug, his hands gripping at you too tightly for you to be comfortable.

it's a fucking threat, you know it is, but you don't waver—continuing to smile felicitously up at him.

it's only after Jaxon goes upstairs to bathe that John confronts you, and he's all malice hidden behind a soft smile, "where'd you go tonight, honey?"

your heart skips a beat, but not from fear, no— it's from excitement.

you peer up at him, every bit sweet, your lashes fluttering in the way you know makes you look faultless, "we went to Jaxon's favorite restaurant. sorry, sweetie— i figured you might have eaten somewhere else."

if the look in his eyes tells you anything, it's that he caught on to your jab, and he doesn't like the tone of your voice.

in response, you coo up at him, trying to dissipate the anger you see in his eyes with your cloying words, “i love you, John.”

he can't bring himself to stay mad at you— not when you say his name like that.

————

now, it's the next day and even after staying up half the night, telling yourself that Madelyn Stillwell wouldn't bother you anymore— you can't help the vexation you feel.

you had agreed to lunch with John— not with her.

she looks pleased to be sat next to him, successfully giving you no other choice but to settle in the seat across from homelander.

you're determined to cut this as short as possible, even if you have to fake an illness. which now, watching as she wraps her hand around his bicep— might not be so fake.

you're tense, pulled taught like a bow— ready to fucking snap.

you don't want to seem rude, but honestly, you’re on the verge of spooning out your own eyes.

in the heat of your jealousy, you don't hide your distaste— you move to leave, a tight smile marring your normally charming face.

a second passes when the homelander realizes you’re planning on leaving— and you think that he might actually let you go. you’re wrong, and his voice stops you dead on your feet, animosity thick in every word, every syllable, "honey—where are you going?"

you turn, voice thick with allure, you’re all doe-eyes and fake sugary innocence— you’re just fucking tempting him, " 'm just going to the bathroom, baby."

when you walk away, your hips sway in the way you know will keep his attention, the way you know will remind him of how they looked dropping in a steady rhythm against his.

after you turn the corner, the smugness, the tickle of revenge— it returns.

you don't come back to finish lunch with them.

————

later in the day, it's only fitting that he catches up to you when you're really in the bathroom.

probably some fucked up karma for telling him that was where you were going when you'd escaped all those hours ago at lunchtime.

the homelander is upset with you.

he's seething, lips curled up into a snarl, voice booming in the open space, and as much as you hate yourself for it, it fucking turns you on.

"just going to the fucking bathroom, huh?"

you blink owlishly up at him, feeling sticky on the inside when his leather clad hand rumples up his hair, "i told you where i was going— i didn't say i was coming back."

that's all it takes for his hands to slam against the tiles of the sink, the ceramic creaking under the pressure, "do you think you're fucking funny? i let you get away with dinner for Jaxon— but this? this?"

the homelander anticipates you to answer with your own anger.

he's come to expect that of you. you don't outwardly fear him and you never back down from an argument.

you're a goddamn luntic— and he fucking loves that about you.

but you don't yell.

you bite back your anger, and instead of raising your voice, you answer in a soft, honeyed one— one dripping saccharine syrup, "do you love me, sweet boy?"

it shoots heat down the homelander’s spine, makes his thoughts slow— you’re a fucking tease. he can hear your footsteps bringing you closer when he doesn’t respond. when you touch him, no hesitance in your movement, he sinks in to the feeling.

your hands brush against the eagles on his broad shoulders, trailing a path straight to his chest, and you linger there, kneading at the muscle— he short fucking circuits.

you shift yourself until you’re caged between his body and the sink, mouth parting in another question, “huh, baby? you love mommy?”

it’s a calculated risk— but a still a risk.

it fucking works.

the homelander’s bottom lip quivers, cerulean eyes darkening at the very sound of the word.

his quivering hands move from the tile of the bathroom sink to squeeze at the fat of your hips, “of course i love you.”

your gaze turns predatory and you push yourself up to sit on the sink, to level with him. your mouth hovers close to his, close enough you can feel his balmy breaths against your cupid’s bow— close enough you can feel the stutter in his breathing, but not close enough to kiss him the way he wants.

you stop to thank whatever fucker sitting up in the sky that you wore a skirt today.

it rides up slowly as you shift— the doughy fat of your thigh rippling invitingly with each movement. the motion catches his eye, draws his attention away from your mouth, and you can hear the hitch of breath in his throat— the desperate little noise that follows, “did you miss mommy’s pussy, John?”

he's nodding in agreement, hazy-eyed and oh so soft. you almost feel bad for him— almost.

you lean close, mouthing at the lobe of his ear, until his hands grope at the softness of your thighs, "you wanna taste it, honey?"

another nod is all you receive in response, but that isn't enough for you— not this time.

"c'mon sweetheart, mommy wants to hear you use your words," your hands trail from their perch on his chest to grope at the thick line of his cock, pressing out so temptingly from his groin of his suit, lining the curve of his hip, "tell me, sweet boy."

the noise he makes is so fucking depraved, and you feel it again— that omnipotent feeling in your chest.

it's delicious. he's delicious.

you're going to rip those manicured fingers out of his ribs— and you’re going to replace them with your fucking own.

"please— wanna taste it."

you don't deny him— you can't. you're just as desperate, thoughts sluggish and disgruntled as you spread yourself open.

your shaky hands pull at your underwear, and John, he's watching— watching as the strands of your slick break from the movement, watching as the translucent fibrils stick your soft skin.

he's looking at you like you're a goddamn masterpiece— and you fucking are.

you almost lose the control you have over him when his knees hit the floor, mouth opening to lap at the confection of you like you're the first thing he's tasted all day.

you attempt to gather yourself, but the sloppy drag of his tongue is so distracting, "gentle, John— mommy needs you to be gentle."

he does as you ask almost instantly, suckling at the most tender parts of you with the considerateness you had almost forgotten he has.

not long after that, you let him press your back to the mirror, you let him tug you to the edge of the sink, you let him hook your thighs around his hips— and you let him fuck you in the bathroom right down the hall from Madelyn Stillwell's office.

but it isn't as rushed as the first time, this time it's tender— soft and with each press of his hips into yours, with the homelander’s cock sinking impossibly deeper with each stroke, you forget each and every one of the worries that had been plaguing your thoughts for days.

in fact, you forget the reason you were so upset in the first place.

when his leather garbed hand tangles in your hair to pull you impossibly closer, to touch every part of you to him— to fuck you so thoroughly that the only thing you can think of is him, the homelander— your sweet boy, you can’t help the way your hips begin to roll down into his with a choked noise in your chest— you sound fucking depraved too.

the homelander mouths at where your pulse races in your throat, muffling the whimpers of your name falling from his lips— and you can't help but to think that this, this is bliss.

————

and now, as you help John fix his hair, that feeling of dread returns like a slow icy drip in your veins.

your jealousy has been mended— your thoughts are no longer irrational.

and your need for verification, the pettiness that let you to this situation, that got you stuck even deeper in his maw, it’s fucking gone.

but the way he looks at you—the crazed love in his eyes— the obsession, it's still there, and it terrifies you.

so when he bares down on you, mouth still carrying the tang of your arousal, the only thing you can hear is your grandmother's voice ringing through the emptiness of the bathroom.

you're looking up at John, but all you see is her, her with that evocative look in her eyes.

"i’ve been thinking, sweetheart,” bile rises in your throat, “you and Jaxon should move out of that shitty old house before it fucking falls in on you.”

you smile up at him, nervous about what he’s planning, “we don’t have anywhere else to go, John.”

the homelander tugs you closer, eyes dark with a silent threat, a threat that’s on standby for if you dare oppose him, “ah— but you do, honey. you can just come live with me.”

a golden cage, is still just a cage.

(PART THREE)

[okaylorrainee]

her way of water

characters. neteyam & female reader. sully family. tsireya.

synopsis. neteyam and his family left their clan to seek uturu from yours. on their first night, neteyam wanders by the shore to clear his mind. he finds himself away from everyone’s marui pods and comes across you as you bathed - he couldn’t get you out of his mind since then.

note. went out to touch grass + visited my grandparents so this chapter was uploaded a bit later than intended hehe. thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! i wasn’t expecting to wake up to 100+ notes today so i am very grateful :)! shoutout to my irls btw. avatar has been our motivation to get through hell week last week lol anyways enjoy reading!

taglist: @rainbowsocks @mashiromochi

Ch 02 [ previous . masterlist . next ]

you were a simple member of the metkayina clan. born from warrior parents, you grew up to be a huntress taught by the adults in the clan. as a young na’vi, you would accompany the older members whenever they hunted so you could learn and get better experience. your tasks weren’t limited to hunting, however. you enjoyed helping everyone out. everyday consisted of different activities for you depending on whoever needed help the most. for some days, you would spend your time weaving nets or clothing for the other clan members, and on other days, you would play with the children, teaching them the basics of clan traditions. 

you loved crafting during your free time. the others would find you sitting somewhere creating ornaments or weapons for yourself from leftovers from the animals you’ve hunted. you considered them as a keepsake from your time hunting with the others, every moment was an important memory for you. you were quite the sentimental one.

since hunting took up most of your time, you haven’t had the opportunity to hang out with the na’vi your age. everyone else was busy with their own duties as well, so you understood there wasn’t a chance to get closer.

tsireya was different though. she always found the time to get to know you, and eventually, she became your only close friend. you were probably just one of hers, but it didn’t matter to you, you were content with your friendship.

at the moment, you were in your marui, tying up the last few shells to the new net top you were working on. it was coming out beautifully, just how you envisioned it. you were busy admiring your work when a familiar voice interrupted your silence.

“sister, are you here?” 

you turn around and a smile finds its way to your face, “tsireya, it is nice to see you.” you released your creation, letting it drop to the netting. you stood up and held your hands out; she approached you with a smile, taking your palms.

“i have missed you all day. did you have to be gone all afternoon?” 

you chuckled, “i have enjoyed myself too much out there. you know i would rather enjoy the freedom of the ocean instead of cooping in this small pod.”

tsireya giggles at your statement. her eyes find their way to the net top you were working on. “i see you have made another one. the clothing you make is very lovely as always.”

“thank you, sister. i appreciate that compliment. would you like one as well?”

her face brightened even more. “really? you would make one for me? i would love that.”

you nodded, “of course, anything for my friend.”

she gives you another soft smile before letting you go. “to tell you the truth sister, i did not come to you for this reason.” she said, “i have a favor to ask of you.”

you gave her a curious look as you picked up the top from the netting. “oh? do tell.”

tsireya began walking around your marui, “you know about the forest na’vi from the omatikaya clan who arrived yesterday, and how my brother and i were tasked to teach toruk makto’s children, correct?”

“... yes?” you urged her to continue.

“i know this would only add to your schedule,” she stands firmly and faces you, “but we need your help for their breathing exercise tomorrow.”

you tilted your head in confusion. “why, tsireya? i am sure you are more than enough to help them learn. you are a very great teacher.”

“but you will be better!” she grabbed your arm. “sister, you are the best swimmer among us in our age, and i know even ao’nung would not object to that.”

you hummed in disapproval. “i am not so sure about that…”

“please,” her grip on your arm tightens, “you have to do it. i would like to introduce you to them. the others have not been very nice to them, but you will, right?”

you stared at her for a few seconds, thinking about how you’ll reply to her. but then again, what harm could it bring? you missed the opportunity to see them yesterday after all when everyone crowded around them and blocked your view. tsireya was begging you with her large eyes, how could you refuse your friend?

you sighed, “alright. i will be there tomorrow.”

with a small squeal, she jumped with your arm in her hands. “great! you will enjoy it, i promise!”

tsireya spent a few more minutes in your pod, chatting about each other's day and some other random stuff. when dark came, you’ve decided to stay inside and finish the net top you promised your friend the afternoon earlier.

–

neteyam had the entire evening to think about his discussion with tsireya and to decide what to do about it. eventually, he came to the conclusion to approach the na’vi he saw that night, and just talk to her. he didn’t know how he’d start and what he’d talk about honestly, but he refused to act like a coward. a mighty warrior such as himself is afraid to talk to a girl? lo’ak would be laughing his ass off if he found out.

and so, that’s what he came back here for. same time, same place. only now, he wasn’t hiding behind a tree. he was waiting out in the open, looking behind himself every now and then to check if the na’vi he was waiting for was approaching.

neteyam had stayed in the same spot for so long, gradually getting impatient. perhaps she had something to do which is why she was late? - is what he’s been telling himself for who knows how long. but his optimism was wavering every passing moment. what if he had only seen her there by coincidence? what if he had lost his opportunity the night before because he ran away when she was leaving the water? what if… she wasn’t real and was only in his mind?

minutes turned to hours, and it would only be a while before the sun rises. neteyam heavily sighs, standing up and brushing off the sand clinging on his skin. a dark expression on his face, he heads back to the village in disappointment.

neteyam went back to sleep after that. what else could he do? it was stupid of him to waste his time over there. hopefully he'll have enough energy to train tomorrow. it would be suspicious of him to not perform well.

when he woke up, his family was feasting on fish for lunch just behind him. they said they couldn’t wake him up as he was in such deep sleep. they didn’t question him, thinking he must’ve been overwhelmed with his training; neteyam didn’t bother to say anything else as he followed to eat.

–

training with the sullys was fast approaching, and you had just gotten back from hunting with some elders. you were rushing to your marui, a net of fishes in your hand; they will be dinner for you and some other clan members later on.

biting your lip, you ran through nets and nets of pods just to get to yours. you had to drop off these fish first and grab the top you’ve made for tsireya before heading to the training place. you couldn’t afford to be late; you didn’t want to upset your friend.

out of nowhere, a na’vi appears right in your face when you jump to take a turn around the pods. their sudden appearance caused you to lose balance and tumble right on your ass, almost falling into the water. your grip around the net loosened because you had to hold on to something else to support yourself, and this made you release your hunted fishes into the water. 

“ah.” you watched as the net slowly sank towards the seabed. eywa, have mercy. what disrespect to the blessings she gave you.

“i will get it.” before you knew it, the na’vi dived right into the water, and you could only watch as he swam to get your fish.

when he floated to the surface, it was only then did you confirm he was not from awa’atlu. his blue skin, thin arms and tail told you he was one of the sullys, because who else could he be?

you observed him as he placed the fish on the netting next to you before climbing up, his braided hair occasionally covering his face as it swayed all over. as soon as he stood up, he held his hand out to help you get on your feet. you grabbed his hand without a word, taking note of how firm and manly they were as you stared at his dripping wet face. it was difficult not to, but you were definitely eyeing him. 

he was so different from the metkayina men you’ve been used to. is this why tsireya was so drawn to that one sully boy she kept talking about yesterday? you kind of understood now.

“i am sorry about that. are you hurt anywhere?” he asks.

“no. i am fine.” you replied, and you swore you saw his eyes shot up to yours. “thank you for grabbing my fish. you did not have to do that.” his staring was starting to melt you that you looked away. “uhm… i must go now. goodbye.” you didn’t even give him a chance to say anything else, and just went around him to walk away.

you hadn’t noticed how his head spun to follow you, eyes squinting as if he was thinking. but the man tilted his head and brushed it off, walking away as if nothing happened.

©️ okaylorrainee 2023. please do not re-upload, translate my content anywhere without permission.

Ch 02 [ previous . masterlist . next ]

[bhaalbaaby]

Title: True Love Waits In Haunted Attics (1941 words) Pairing: astarion/gn!tav Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, cazador A/N: request for some hurt/comfort :") from @satanicspinosaurus; astarion gets left behind from the group and must deal with thoughts of abandonment and angst

Read on AO3!

Astarion should have known this day would happen as the door shuts, but this time...

How could have been so stupid?

He hears the others on the other side of the wall, their voices fainter and fainter, the change in their pockets jingling against each other as they continue walking away from the crypt. He thought Tav would be different. Memories or made-up conversations he dreamt about whisper in his ears.

False promises.

"I'll protect you, Astarion. You never have to worry." He would roll his eyes, his heart at ease for once as he waved away Tav's valid statements. At least valid at the time.

"I appreciate your concern, though I wish you didn't have to protect me, love."

He didn't mean that.

Not really.

He bangs on the wall, hoping someone would hear, someone to notice. Is he that forgettable? He tries to find a button, but can't find one anywhere in this hideaway room. The smell of old gold and dried blood is almost suffocating. How many people also were to this fate? Dying because they were abandoned by those they cared for most?

As a vampire, he could survive in here. He hears the squeaks of mice in the old walls and scuttling on the floor, but he has his freedom now. He couldn't survive being locked away again. The years of torment beckon except instead of hearing Godey or worse Cazador, he hears nothing now. 

Tav is gone. They really left him. How could they?

He bangs on the wall again, screaming until his throat is raw and dry. How long has it been? It couldn't be more than an hour now. An hour without coming back. An hour without coming for him. His breathing is hard as he paces, trying to keep his legs from giving, knees buckling at the realization of his new fate. He swallows hard, sitting against the wall. His hands tremble violently as he sees the blood of their enemies on his hands. Soon they will be replaced with his blood. He would have to scrawl, scratch, dig, whatever it takes to get out of here.

He takes a deep breath. He is free. He is not under anyone's control. He can get out of here. He defeated a Nether Brain. So why would he let one trap get to him?

He takes out his dagger and begins scraping at the wood, barely making a knick in it. He clenches his jaw. Though Tav is gone, they did teach him resourcefulness and finding ways out in situations like this. He shouldn't curse them all the way.

But they did leave him.

He grunts with each strike, every one with all his strength as he barely makes a dent in the door. "Open you son of a bitch!" He yells, his steady strikes turning into flails. He hits the door one last time before sinking onto the dirty floor. 

He should have known this would happen. He put too much faith in one person, one beautiful, stupid, cruel, kind, patient, unforgiving person. Maybe they were looking for an out since he is no longer the sexy seductive vampire he used to be. Now he has feelings and space to be whatever he wants.

He rubs his eyes, his vision blurring with tears. He is too much for them to handle of course. They need someone with less baggage than 200 years of slavery. He should die here. It's what he deserves. He rests his head on his knees as he lets his sob wrack through his body, his nails digging into his knees.

A cruel ending from the one he claimed to love. Locked away again for crimes he didn't know.

He sees Tav's warm face as they tell him everything will be okay, they will never part, and the world will be theirs as they go on more adventures. Anything Astarion wants to do. Why would they lie to him? If they didn't want him, why did they tell him pretty words? He was so blinded by the safety and trust he put in them.

He should have left before it felt real. He should have kept up his facade so they wouldn't get bored of him. His thoughts race and flood with more reasons why they won't come back, why they left him. It is his fault for thinking everything would be different. 

An old voice sneaks its way into his mind, the disappointed tsk as an apparition of his Old Master shakes his head. "Poor, little boy. You thought you were better than me. Now you are lower than you have ever been. You are nothing." The voice hisses, his red eyes burning into Astarion's undead soul.

Astarion scrambles to his feet, his chest heaving as he pushes his damp hair from his forehead. "No... I am not nothing." He yells back, holding his dagger out.

The hallucination laughs, disappearing into nothingness when he strikes. "You have no friends. You have no family. You have no lover. You will be forgotten. No one will mourn you." Cazador jeers in his ear as Astarion turns around, gripping his dagger hard, eyes rapidly searching.

"You're wrong!"

"Am I? Look at you grovel in this dungeon. No one is coming back. The world will finally be rid of the incessant prattle of Astarion Ancunin."

"Stop it! You're not real!" Astarion shouts, starting his search for a button or level. He needs to get out of here now. Cazador's laugh echoes and increases in volume as Astarion tugs on rock, and pushes more of the old books off the shelves and empty barrels, clattering about.

He feels like he's spinning, or the room is spinning, as he tries until he slips on a loose paper. He lands on his back with a hard crack, the immediate white fills his vision. He doesn't cry out, or if he does, he cannot hear it. This is how he will die.

Forgotten and alone. 

Tav runs to the door, Wyll and Gale behind them as they pull the lever. "Gods above... Please work." They whisper to themselves, their heart pounding as the lever doesn't budge. "Gale, Wyll. A spell. Something, please." They plead, before slamming on the wall.

"Astarion, Astarion. My love! We're back! The wall won't open." They press their ear on the wall, trying to hear him, but only silence greets them. "Astarion, my sweet..." Their hands turn to fists as they hit the wall harder.

Gale whispers a knock spell on the wall as Wyll tries for the lever again. The wall gives, opening up slowly revealing Astarion on the stone floor. Tav's heart instantly drops as they rush in. "Keep the door open!" They shout at their companions as they rush in.

Their mind is in overdrive as they cradle his face in their lap. "Astarion... Wake up. Please." They scan around looking for traps, the place in shambles as his chest barely rises and falls. "My little star... Please."

"Um, Tav, the wall won't stay open forever."

Tav glances back at Gale, grief-stricken, but they stand, dragging Astarion by his shoulders out of the room just in time as the walls close again. They crumple to the ground as they hold the unconscious vampire in their arms, trying to calm their heart. He is still alive. The tomb is so quiet around them as Tav brushes their thumb on his cheek.

"Astarion, please wake up. Please..." They whimper, resting their head against his, their face wet with sweat and tears. They still don't know how he got separated and didn't go far. The longest twenty minutes of their life and they know it felt even longer for him. What was he doing in there? They reach into their pouch, pulling out a healing potion, gently dribbling the nectar in his mouth, praying it would work. 

He coughs hard, sitting up fast, almost knocking into Tav's head as he springs up. "No! You can't take-" He stops yelling, looking around bewildered. Cazador's mocking voice is silenced, for now. Tav replaces him, their hands out as if ready to catch him if Astarion falls. There they are, his concerned friends and lover.

"I'm so sorry, Astarion. The door closed so quickly. I thought you were following behind. We didn't go so far," Tav says quickly, apprehension stilling their body from tackling him in a hug. Astarion takes deep breaths, his hands going to his ragged throat and disheveled clothes. He carefully touches the back of his head, wincing at the pain.

"Looks like he's bleeding. We should find a healer," Wyll interjects gently. Astarion glances at Tav, blinking slowly. Perhaps the Blade of Avernus is right. Tav and Wyll come to either side of him, hoisting him carefully.

He leans on Tav still in awe. "You came back."

Tav's brows furrow as they nod. "Of course I did. I would never abandon you, my love."

The words are so familiar, words he used against himself. Gale starts ahead of them. "Come on. We should get him back to camp so he can rest." 

Alone again.

Astarion slowly sits up in his tent, feeling slightly better, if not dizzy. The others are outside, talking amongst themselves. He sighs, looking around. He put them back a day with this rest, but Tav won't complain. Deep down, he knows this. If Gale or Wyll got stuck, they'd do the same.

He crawls out of the tent seeing Tav's back as they look at the fire, tense from today. If his head were cooperating, he would slink over and gently massage their back. Instead, he takes a deep breath, a wave of nausea threatening to overcome him. He stumbles, the dirt under his shoes giving away his position as Tav and Gale turn away from the flames.

Tav springs into action, quickly by his side and helping Astarion sit. He grimaces as he sits on the bedroll.

Gale grins as he stands, "I hope your head is feeling better, Astarion. I shall retire for the evening. See you both in the morning." He bows slightly as he goes to his tent.

Astarion sighs, staring up at the night sky, grateful he could see another day. Tav's hand rests behind him, their head just about to rest on his shoulder, but they hesitate.

"Thank you... For saving me." Astarion says, breaking the silence. They sit up, letting Astarion take his time. "I had a very hard time in there. Brought back rather unpleasant memories." He slowly glances at Tav, not wanting to trigger any bouts of nausea. "When I thought it was over, you came back. You always come back."

"Of course, I come back. I love you, Astarion." They take his hand into theirs, pressing their lips against the back of it, his skin so cold.

He looks down, his dark lashes seemingly touching his cheekbones as he considers this. He's still getting used to hugs, never sure where his arms should go exactly, but in this moment, it's what he needs, what he wants.

His arms wrap around Tav's shoulders as he pulls them in, burying his face in their neck. Tav responds in turn, their hands resting on his back, gently rubbing in a circle as they let him hug them for as long as he needs. They close their eyes as they bring him closer, their shirt getting damp with his tears.

But they will not let go, never. They press a quick kiss on his forehead as an eternal promise that they will never leave, staying his for as long as they can.

taglist: @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @razrogue @thedancingbun @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator