#i feel like this is such a Real step into adulthood

[clingylilhoneybee]

:/

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[scorpihoe1111]

💔Chiron In the Houses💔

Chiron in your chart can tell you which part of your life is a touchy subject for you. Depending on the house it’s in, it can reveal the themes of your life that may have affected you greatly, or an area in your life that you may be insecure about.

Chiron in the 1H🧍🏼‍♀️

Something you may have struggled with through out your life is your appearance/self esteem. Those with this placement may have been bullied for their looks or something about them physically has been commented on/brought attention to plenty of times. The type of person to invest in plastic surgery they may not even need, or lose/gain a few extra pounds when their body is fine as it is. This placement, ironically enough; is found in people who overdo themselves with enhancements/plastic surgery/makeup etc even when it’s unnecessary. Prone to facial/body dysmorphia. What I find interesting however is that this placement usually naturally glows up at some point in their life as they get older, but the scars still remain; so they usually can continue being insecure for a long time and/or can seem to accept or believe any compliments given to them until they heal.

Chiron in the 2H💴

Similar to chiron in the 1H, this placement struggles with self worth/self esteem to a heightened degree, however instead of stemming from appearance it stems more so from financial instability/self worth in general. This placement could have grew up in a financially unstable environment and family where money wasn’t always present, and their needs were barely met; let alone their wants. These are the people who didn’t grow up with the latest video game, the newest car, the nicest house, expensive clothes/shoes. These were the people who had or barely had enough to get by growing up. Growing up they could have been surrounded by people who had more than them, or at least had more basic necessities than they did which in turn caused them to get judged or bullied. This is a placement that people are looked down upon for not having/affording nice things. This placement usually makes one an extremely hard worker growing up so they can have everything they didn’t have when young and not have to deal with it again. Without healing this wound however, these people could be prone to growing up superficial and judgmental just like their bullies in youth. They can start judging others who have less than them, and assessing others worth by what they have materially; because this is how they were treated growing up.

Chiron in the 3H🧠

These people could have struggled in school and may have been held back in grades. A slow learner, to say the least. They may have had a hard time learning and/or dropped out of high school or college. These people also may struggle with speech difficulties, could have grew up with a stutter or wasn’t able to speak/process things properly throughout their childhood and they could have been bullied for this. They could have been made to feel “stupid”, “slow” or “dumb” to their peers or family. They also may have simply grew up naive or very child like, maybe even sheltered and people could have traumatized them once they discovered the real world. This placement could also NOT get along with their siblings. People with this placement I know have been taunted, mistreated, or on the receiving end of jealousy by siblings both in childhood and adulthood.

Chiron in the 4H🏠 TW: ABUSE

These people could have had a very negative upbringing or family life. Home life was unstable, the father or mother could have not been very involved. I’ve noticed people with these placements could have been physically, emotionally or even sexually abused at home. Could have had a step parent that was abusive or one or both of the parents could have passed away. Some people with this placement could have been in foster care and/or traveled house to house to live with relatives/others who will take them in. They could of grew up with a lot of fighting in the house, I also noticed people with this placement could of had a parent that had an affair and this could of changed the whole trajectory of the home. If no abuse, then these people could have also been heavily mistreated or neglected in their family and almost treated like a stranger, and very outcasted within their family as well. These are the people who usually move out as soon as they can as they grow up and cut all contact immediately from family. Family could used the individual for personal gain. The family could have been extremely toxic, misogynistic, racist, overtly religious and/or diagnosed with mental illnesses such as NPD.

Chiron in the 5H🧑🏻‍🍼

These people struggle to be themselves and step outside the box. This placement is one where you’re afraid to accept any praise, as you feel you’re undeserving. These people usually feel like they’re not supposed to be happy or have nice things. They could have grew up with a negative, bitter family who influenced them to be overly humble to the point of self hatred. These were the people where the family could have threw things that they do for them in their face, even those it was basic necessities. “I put a roof over your head and food in your mouth!” this placement could of grew up feeling like they owe their parents something for bare minimum treatment. These people weren’t allowed to express themselves, to be themselves or to make their own decisions growing up. They were almost always practically controlled by their parents into being their personal robot. They feel guilty for enjoying themselves, loving themselves, having a good time or even just being happy. This is the ultimate placement that’s giving “If I can’t, why should you”. Not that it’s their fault, but I’ve never met a person with this placement who wasn’t the ultimate party pooper. Without healing, these people could grow up to become judgmental and bitter towards those who are living their best life. They could also struggle with fertility issues as well.

Chiron in the 6H🖊️

I feel like this placement is ridiculously hard on themselves no matter what they achieve in life. These are the people who I can honestly say are over givers, yet they feel like they’re still not giving enough. They could have struggled with keeping a set routine for themselves or even practicing basic hygiene growing up. But this is because this placement is a placement where nobody taught them anything that they know, they had to learn everything on their own. These people could be called lazy for wanting to take a simple break. Their lives usually revolve around work or doing their job. They can also be the type of people who is always trying to make everyone else happy except for themselves. I usually see people with this placement get taken advantage of because of their overly giving and forgiving nature. The reason these people are the way they are is because they grew up in a household that never gave them anything they have. They always felt like they had to prove themselves to others that they’re worthy of basic human decency. They do their best to help and do nice things for others because they were practically on their own soon as they came out of the womb. :(

Chiron in the 7H👩‍❤️‍👨

Oh boy, this placement is harsh. Those with Chiron in the 7H are people who have been deeply traumatized by love/relationships. These people usually end up with really bad partners who end up cheating, using, degrading and/or abusing them. I find this placement similar to Saturn in the 7H, however Chiron here is way more intense. These people feel like they keep going through the same cycle over and over in regards to love. They could have been traumatized by multiple relationships but the people I’ve met with this placement usually have that 1 relationship that changed their whole outlook on love in general. This is somebody who’s went through so many manipulative mind games in love that they start to lose hope. Once healed however, those with this placement end up becoming very mature and healthy individuals in regards to love and relationships. These people usually find “the one” once they start healing from the trauma of this placement. If unhealed, Relationships/marriage to people with this placement slowly start to lose its appeal once they get older because they put it in their mind that every man/woman is the same. Unfortunately, people who have been disappointed enough times with this placement start to turn so bitter that they become a misandrist/misogynist at some point in time. That’s why it’s important to heal if you have this placement, because it’s a harsh one that really starts to affect the mind internally.

Part 2 is on its way ☺️

[cutielando]

can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!

♡♡♡♡♡

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood. 

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

“Are you okay?”  Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it. 

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other. 

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you. 

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did. 

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

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[sorrowsofsilence]

I Was Always Yours

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 4.1k

Part Two

Warnings: smut 18+, fluff, swearing, unprotected s*x (pls wrap it b4 u tap it), female recieving, PnV penetration.

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Author note: This is short haired Noah era! <3 I just couldn’t resist using the beautiful photo of Noah above :3 Also, I haven’t written on tumblr in years, but I thought I’d come back with this fluff/smut! Enjoy if this finds you! <3

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

I finally gathered the courage to turn off my car, letting the crisp autumn air bite at my cheeks as I stepped outside. Taking in a shaky breath I allowed my legs to carry me towards the door, my hands clammy and fingers fidgety.

The boys were always simple- and even their nice townhouse was in an everyday neighbourhood, with nothing elaborate on the outside. Just as it had always been, as if time never flew by.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. I’ve known Nick and Noah for years. We were neighbours growing up, went to high school together, and even shared memories from our adulthood. These boys knew me and I knew them, but I knew that things were different now. 

The boys had just finished tour, and have grown exponentially in their music careers. They walked around with security now, and had fans dedicated to finding out everything about their lives- they’ve become a spectacle; no longer just Nick, or just Noah. 

The nerves also came because I didn’t even know if I’d be seeing Noah. Admittedly, he was my first crush; and really, I don’t think it ever left. When I first met him in seventh grade he sported a shaggy haircut and a dorky grin, and he’s held my heart with iron bars ever since. Over the years I had just accepted that my feelings would never be reciprocated, and we both dated other people on and off. 

It’s been almost three years since I last got to see him due to the pandemic, and we only ever texted each other on big life events, like birthdays, or during the release of their album. I knew the boys were back when Nick sent out a message that he was looking to tattoo again. I sported a few of Nick’s pieces, but I was looking to get a cover-up of a bad decision I made during a past relationship. I texted Nick asking if he was available, and here I am; right outside Nick’s house. 

I sighed deeply, trying to persuade the anxiety out of my lungs, before knocking, following the pattern I had always used when I was younger. Within seconds I was greeted by a pair of grey-green eyes and a wide smile, my nervousness beginning to cease.

“Y/N!” I was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, and I let out a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding in. My grin matched his own as I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing back, laughing.

“It’s nice to see you Ruffilo.” 

We pulled away from each other and shared another smile. I took off my leather Doc Martens, straightening my fuzzy red polka-dot socks before giving him another hug, smiling into his neck.

“It’s been way too long,” Nick said, giving me an empathetic glance as we separated. “Life has just been crazy.”

“Yeah, I almost wonder if I should be bowing to you right now considering how famous you’ve gotten,” I couldn’t help but laugh, and Nick rolled his eyes, leading me down the hall. The place was neat; white paint, and light flooring. Various Bad Omen’s posters and records hung neatly on the wall, along with other abstract art pieces. It was delicate and simple, just as they way they always kept it. It’s nice to see that they haven’t changed in that regard. 

“Trust me, no bowing is required.” Nick turned back to face me, his smile radiating, before motioning at a door ahead, and I walked into a small office filled with tattoo supplies. It was Nick’s mini-home tattoo studio. 

“Wow, this is awesome Nick. You’ve always wanted your own little studio.” I said, looking at his work plastered on the wall, soaking it in with awe.

He sighed happily, “Yeah, when we were looking for a house that was one of my requirements. I needed my own space; just because we make music doesn’t mean I’ll give up tattooing.”

I nodded, taking a seat on the chair. “Thank you for seeing me by the way, I appreciate you squeezing me in.”  

“Hey, for you, I’d do anything.” He smiled warmly, sitting across from me. 

Nick and I chatted for almost an hour before even starting the tattoo. We caught up and talked about tours, and I loved getting to listen to his stories about performing and getting to travel the world. It seemed like the dream, especially considering that before the pandemic, they joked about only pleasing ten fans.

However, the entire time I felt distracted. The only thing my mind kept wandering to was if Noah was home, or if he was going to show up. I felt ashamed being so disconnected from the conversation with Nick; because he was someone I cared about deeply. Yet, my thoughts took me elsewhere. 

“You alright?” Nick asked gently, as he started preparing his supplies, glancing at me teasingly.

“Oh yeah! I’m good!” I smiled reassuringly and Nick echoed me, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked him, the cheesy grin plastered on his face making me nervous.

“Noah will be home soon, he’s just out with Davis.” 

I stared at him, my cheeks beginning to flush, “Okay, cool?” I shrugged nonchalantly, but my stomach immediately began doing spirals, nerves bubbling throughout my veins.

Nick wiped my thigh, preparing the location for the stencil quietly before asking, “You never told him how you felt?” 

I watched him cautiously, eyes flickering between his hands and his eyes, “I- I don’t feel anything,” I shook my head, ears getting even hotter. “That was so long ago.”

Nick looked up through his lashes, looking very unconvinced, “Sure, and I don’t play in a band.”

Rolling my eyes, I gave him an annoyed smile, “It would be nice to see him. It’s been a long time- and he doesn’t post anything online anymore, or text.”

Nick nodded as he wiped and re-drew the outline on my leg, “Noah’s been pretty recluse. He’s gotten a lot of anxiety from the fame; mostly just sticks to himself when we finish shows. Plus, he doesn’t enjoy dealing with some of the fans.” 

I frowned, feeling myself get sad. Noah has always been pretty introverted, but it looked like he was getting out of his shell on stage. He was playing into the pretty boy facade he had going, and he knew he was hot. I’ve seen plenty of videos from the tour. 

“Well, I hope he is doing alright,” I said softly, looking around the room again for any form of distraction.

As if on cue I heard the front door open, and a yell cascaded down the hall, “You better not have a girl in your room,” he had teased.

Immediately I felt the hair on my neck stand in anticipation, realizing that the voice belonged to Noah. My fingers began to tingle as all the blood rushed towards my face, my chest losing any ounce of breath I was just able to exhale.

His voice bounded across the walls again, “but, these are some pretty sick boots.”

“Got someone even better,” Nick yelled back, laughing, “In the tattoo room.”

A head of brunette hair popped in the doorway, his eyes immediately widening as if his whole world suddenly began to spin within milliseconds. A small flush of colour ran down his ears onto the tops of his cheekbones, before a wide, childlike smile appeared on his face. He stepped into the room, immediately crossing his arms, and leaning on the side of the table as if he thought he was doing something charming.

“No fucking way, look what the cat dragged in,” his Virginian accent dancing off his tongue. 

I looked back at him, my heart racing even faster. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, but he did take my breath away. Noah looked older, but healthy, becoming a lot more muscular and defined, despite his height and lank still being there. His hair was short, a layer of bangs hanging across his forehead in a messy sweep. It was the first time I’d seen him in person without his long hair, all 13 inches gone; but it suited him. I soaked in his appearance, noticing a few new tattoos layered around his fingers as well, my heart yearning. 

“Is that really my Y/N/N?” he stared at me, the grin not leaving his face, especially after using my childhood nickname. Noah walked towards me shyly with open arms, squinting his eyes in contentment as he invited me in for a hug.

“the one and only.” I breathed a nervous laugh, standing up. Shaky limbs carried me over to him and he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me within his body. 

I composed myself, inhaling slowly, before hugging back, squeezing his torso. I felt so small compared to him, yet I still fit right between his arms, as if I was meant to always be there, a spot reserved just for me. We rocked back and forth in a tight embrace, his chest vibrating as he let out a happy chuckle. 

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I could hear the happiness radiating off of him.

I sighed with relief at his reaction; he must’ve missed me too. He held onto me for a moment more, and I breathed in his scent, recognizing his favourite Dior cologne. Smiling into his chest, It felt comfortable- it felt familiar. Years of memories flooded back, my heart recalling, reminding myself that he was who I had been missing in my life all along. 

“Wow, you’ve changed Y/N,” Noah said as he pulled away, stepping back slightly, taking me in with a look of awe. He absorbed all of me, drinking in my image, before grabbing the sides of my face, and staring into me with an immense amount of appreciation. 

I looked up at him in admiration, studying his deep October eyes as they sang unspoken words, retelling a story that only our bodies knew. 

“Your hair,” I said as my hand unconsciously found its way to his locks.

My fingers flowed down his no longer existing threads, reminiscing of his past image. That chapter of his life was gone. He’s been reborn into a much more confident man, a newer version of the Noah that once was. I almost longed for his old appearance, because I didn’t know this Noah- but by the way his eyes gleamed, he was still mine. 

Noah chuckled, “Yeah, I was tired of getting it in my mouth when singing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his hand, before pulling away to look at Nick.

Nick gave us a sly smile, shaking his head gently. 

“I didn’t expect to see you,” Noah sighed, still smiling. I swear it hasn’t left his face since he saw me. He looked over at Nick, “And you didn’t even tell me?”

“I thought it would be a fun surprise,” Nick looked at Noah playfully, before patting the tattoo chair. I took a seat again, positioning my thigh within Nick's reach. 

“You’re getting some ink?” Noah asked, folding his arms in approval as he leaned over me, looking at the stencil outlined on my skin. 

“Yeah, Nick said he wanted to tattoo again, and I needed an excuse to visit,” I said cheekily. 

Noah nodded repeatedly, still analyzing my thigh. “You never needed an excuse. You should’ve texted us. Texted me.”

I shrugged, “I didn’t want to get in the way. You guys are busy- especially now. the last thing you need is unnecessary messages or phone calls.” 

“I haven’t seen you in like three years Y/N,” Noah said, sighing a sad smile. He sat down on a stool, folding his ankle over his knee. 

Nick began to outline the tattoo, and I winced briefly,  “I know.” 

“You never came to see us on this tour.” Noah looked at the floor, analyzing the outline of his white vans. I glanced at him quickly, before concentrating on Nick’s hands. “You know we’d have gotten you in right?”

I gave him a mournful look, “I’d pay just like everyone else, Noah. I don’t expect anything…but I honestly just got super busy.”

“I was really hoping you’d be there.” 

I felt my heart clench and my chest tighten at his words. “I’m sorry.” I peered over at him, barely being able to maintain eye contact as I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you either; it does go both ways,” Noah said, and we shared a wry smile. 

“You should come see us this weekend,” Nick said while concentrating. I furrowed my eyebrows as he scratched along my skin, the area beginning to redden. Despite having multiple tattoos, I never enjoyed the experience of getting them. 

“What time? And where?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek, and closing my eyes at the burning sensation. 

Noah scrolled on his phone before I felt my own buzz. Looking at it, I saw a message from Noah. It was a ticket with VIP access. 

“I don’t need VIP,” I looked at him in appreciation. 

Noah smiled down at his phone, “Well last time I checked, VIP stands for ‘very important persons’, and arguably our childhood bestie is in that category.” 

“Well, thank you.” I smiled gratefully, butterflies still knocking on every organ in my body.

“So,” Noah began, shifting positions so he was leaning his elbows on his knees, peering over to stare at my leg, “You and Sean broke it off?”

I followed his gaze, staring at the faded puzzle piece beneath the purple markings of Nick's outline. 

Sean was my first serious boyfriend. We were friends in high school, and admittedly always had some sort of connection. We started dating, and were together for four years; before I found somebody else sleeping with him in our bedroom. 

I looked longingly at the puzzle piece, my eyes snapping away once Nick began lining on top of it, covering away the layers of regret, “He cheated on me.” 

Turning to face Noah, his face immediately shifted from sympathetic to anger, “What a complete fucking tool.” He spat, folding his arms in the chair. Noah’s reaction surprised me, but I nodded in agreement. 

“Yep.” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders, “Note to self, don’t get a matching tattoo. You probably won't be with that person forever.” I said, pessimistically. 

Noah was quiet for a moment, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip as he contemplated his question, “Did you catch him?”  

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows in annoyance, “In our bedroom too.” 

Noah scoffed, audibly groaning while he tilted his head back in hostility, “Pathetic piece of shit. I never liked him being with you.” 

My heart raced as Noah glared at the puzzle piece that began to disappear on my thigh, “At least now you’ll get to have a better piece of art on your body.”

“Exactly,” I smiled proudly, watching Nick’s hands run along the skin, “and it’s the one and only Nicholas Ruffilo’s handy work too.” 

Nick glanced up smiling. It was quiet for a moment, and I chewed on my lip, anxious to ask.

“What about you? Any ladies?” I said to Noah playfully, winking. Deep down though, I was hoping the answer was no one.

Noah gave me a small smile, “No one at the moment, last relationship ended poorly.” 

“That makes two of us.” I chuckled sorrowfully 

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Noah pushed me against the bedroom door, lips attached to my own hastily. His kiss was desperate and hungry as he cupped my face in his hands, and I felt weak in the knees as our hips were pushed together, the heat radiating off of him. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited to do this.” He breathed between kisses.

My hands found their way to Noah’s hair, rubbing my fingers along his scalp affectionately. I smiled through his lips, eagerly holding myself against him. 

“It was so worth the wait.” He whispered, pulling away and putting his forehead against my own. He stared into me, right through me with so much intent. I had always wanted to kiss him, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized where he was, succumbing to me. 

I closed my eyes, smiling, “you have no idea how badly I wanted that too.”

He smiled widely, glancing down at my lips again, this time pulling me into his arms while kissing me with force and passion.

“Tell me how badly,” he whispered, running his fingers delicately across my waist and I melted into his touch.

“Honestly? Probably ever since we met.” I admitted, my face turning red with embarrassment at the confession, “and it’s never gone away.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Noah pulled away from the kiss, running his hand up my arm to cup the side of my face again, thumb tracing a gentle circle along my cheekbone. He looked desperate for an answer as if this was all he’s ever wanted to hear. I felt Noah’s heartbeat racing rapidly through his chest, which heaved heavily against my own. 

“I never thought you felt that way, and I didn’t want to push anything because I didn’t want to lose you,” I confessed, looking away nervously. 

Noah hummed quietly, pulling my chin towards him in another delicate kiss. His lips were warm and gentle. “You’ll never lose me. No matter how long it’s been.”

Noah began running his hands up and down my sides before sliding them between my skin and the hem of my jeans. Immediately I felt flush, and I let my own hands ride up his black t-shirt. His skin was soft and warm, and my fingertips began to tingle with nerves.

Noah hooked his fingers in the loop of my jeans, tugging me towards him and trailing us toward his desk. My thighs hit the back of it, and Noah lifted me gently, placing me on top, and positioning himself between my legs. His warm hands caressed my lower back, creating goosebumps as his nails trailed up and down the skin lightly. I shivered from the sensation.

Noah’s tongue swiped my bottom lip, and I allowed him to kiss me deeper, our tongues melding together. I began tugging at his shirt, and Noah let out a low chuckle.

“You sure you want to do this?” Noah pulled away from my lips to stare into my eyes, looking at me sternly, and analyzing every movement I made.

“yes,” I whined, almost embarrassingly needy, “Do you?”

Noah hung his head, shaking it slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck someone so badly in my entire life,” He looked up with hooded eyes.

“Then take me however you want.” I sighed, pulling at his shirt again, and Noah looked at me darkly with lust, his October eyes fading into an onyx abyss.

Noah pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his tattooed chest; I stared at the ink longingly, remembering when he first got his desolate tattoo. I traced my fingers over the letters delicately, smiling to myself. This moment between us felt like I was reminiscing over all my lost time with Noah.

“Do you still feel this way?” I asked softly, as Noah pulled off my own shirt, leaving me exposed in my pink laced bra. Noah placed his hand on top of mine as I traced the last letter.

He shook his head, “No, but it will always be a reminder of when I felt empty.”

“I'm glad you don’t feel that way anymore,” I whispered, and Noah’s hands explored my body once again, before pulling on the hem of my jeans.

Bringing me into a kiss again, he fiddled with the zipper before tugging my pants down my legs, leaving me exposed in my underwear.

“I’ve probably envisioned you naked weekly.” Noah admitted as he kissed down my neck, hands roaming over every inch of skin in desperation, “I need to taste you, princess.”

I blushed at his words, and Noah’s kisses trailed further from my neck, teeth grazing across my collarbone to between my breasts. His breath quickened as he kissed lower and lower, licking down my stomach until he stopped right at the edge of my underwear.

“This okay?” He breathed heavily, his own face flushing. I nodded, and Noah pulled at the lace, revealing me.

“Fuck,” He groaned, looking up through his eyelashes briefly before placing his mouth against me, letting his slim fingers trace patterns across the sensitive skin.

Noah’s tongue circled me before he inserted two fingers, and I let out a moan. He pumped slowly, moaning quietly against me, “Oh, you wouldn’t want Nick to hear.”

I squeezed my thighs together around his head in pleasure, and Noah’s free hand gripped my thigh, pulling me even closer.

I began to pant faster, trying to be quiet, “Oh my god Noah,” I let my head fall back, resting against the wall as Noah ate me out feverishly, like this was his last meal. His fingers curled upwards, the repetitive motion sending my abdomen into a knot of fulfillment, my legs shaking against his body.

“Fuck, I need to stop or I'm going to come in my pants- and I don’t want to yet.” Noah’s eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. Taking his fingers that were inside me into his mouth, he licked them clean before pulling himself up. I watched in disbelief- that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen him do; even compared to Noah’s stage performances of The Death of Peace of Mind. He grabbed my ass, hoisting me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Noah was extremely hard, his clothed member digging into me as he carried me towards his bed; he kissed me again and I tasted myself off of his tongue.

Noah laid me on the bed, kissing along my neck again as my hands roamed his hair before he unclasped my bra and pulled my panties down, exposing me fully to him.

“You are gorgeous, shit,” Noah mumbled, absorbing me with his eyes as he pulled his shorts down hastily, and I couldn’t help but let my own eyes wander across Noah’s fully exposed body, swallowing hard.

A new warmth washed over me as I got even wetter between my legs, the familiar feeling of excitement preparing my body for Noah’s; but this was different. This time it was Noah, here in front of me. Noah ran his fingers along my folds, moaning and internally begging to replace his hands with his own heat longing to be touched.

Noah spit into his hand and I watched attentively, following his every move as my body shivered. Noah rubbed along himself, before positioning his body above mine.

We shared eye-contact again and I nodded in approval before Noah pushed inside, his body immediately shuddering as I moved my hips against his, and he sighed deeply, squeezing his eyes closed briefly.

“God fucking dammit, you feel so good, princess.”

My legs parted as Noah’s body sunk into mine, his thrusts getting deeper and heavier. I let out another moan, “Oh- my-god-Noah.”

Words were coiled at my throat as Noah pounded into me, hands on either side of my head, his necklace dangling in my face.

“Look at me.” Noah’s voice was rough, and I stared into his eyes. He watched me with every thrust, and I mumbled a string of messy swears, my body clenching around his.

Noah’s arms wrapped around my body, pulling me up so I was positioned on top of him, but so that there was enough leverage for him to continue to thrust into me from below. This new position allowed him to penetrate me deeper and groaned with every entrance of his body into mine.

Noah grabbed the back of my neck and the middle of my back, holding me still as he fully gave himself into me before pulling me into another kiss. His mouth attached to mine hastily, bucking his hips aimlessly. Noah’s moans were almost louder than mine as he shamelessly allowed himself a pleasure.

“Mark me, Noah, show me I was always yours.” I whimpered, and Noah immediately attached to my neck, biting and sucking against the delicate skin that was pinned along my neck.

I heaved into his ear, resting my forehead on his shoulder as he held my hips, allowing myself to completely undo myself, moaning as my body reached my climax.

“Fuck me, Noah,” I panted, gripping his arms as I clenched around him, letting him thrust into me as I rode out my high.

Noah pulled my neck back to look at him again, sweat dripping across his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed in rapture, “please let me cum inside you Y/N.”

I nodded, kissing him eagerly, our saliva melding together as Noah moaned into the kiss. His body quivered as he released himself, exhaling in short breaths of satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” Noah mumbled into my neck, and I held onto him, a smile plastering itself onto my face. We sat there for a moment, panting against each other as our chests heaved, sweat attaching us together. I ran my fingers along Noah’s hair again, absorbing his handsome features, and taking him in.

He looked up at me, his eyes back to their October glow, but now replaced with a gleam of devotion. He tucked the loose strands of my H/C hair behind my ear.

I placed my lips lightly on his, “I missed you so fucking much Noah.”

“I missed you so much princess,” Noah’s hand grabbed the back of my head gently, caressing me into his chest and holding on protectively. He pulled a blanket over us as we lay together out of breath, both relishing the high of our orgasms and the story we just created together.

“I guess I thought you got too busy to be my friend,” I whispered vulnerably as we lay underneath his covers, the story we created longing against my skin.

Noah’s head rested on top of my own, and I felt his body stiffen slightly, “life has been crazy, everything is so different now. We are no longer just screaming in my garage.” He rubbed my arm, nails trailing across my skin once again.

I nodded against him in understanding, “I know. I hope you know I watched every single concert online that I could. I followed so many fan pages just to keep updated on how you were doing.”

Noah pulled me away from him softly, he looked at me with awe, “Did you really?” 

“Of course.” I looked up, smiling at him in adoration. 

“I was always hoping you’d show up again at my doorstep sometime. You have no idea how happy I am right now.” He laughed, pulling me into him again. I smiled against his chest, absorbing this moment, worried it might be my last.

“I love you, Noah Sebastian Davis.”

“I love you most Y/N Y/L/N.”

Part Two if you want more smut ;)

[slaybestieslay946]

Dream Girl

Summary: Paul has dreamt of a girl all his life, and when he reaches Arrakis, he finally discovers her to be the assistant to Dr Liet Kynes.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Fremen!OC

Word count: 2500

Warnings: Slight mentions of violence, pretentious writing style.

A/N: just need to get this out because im so obsessed with him its becoming unhealthy. hope anyone reading enjoys and has a nice day! You never know i might add chapters if i feel like it lmao.

Paul had seen her in his dreams many times over the years. She had been with him throughout it all, from the cradle until now, as he began to bloom into adulthood. 

He’d never thought he’d really see her in front of his eyes. Over the years he’d dismissed her as a mere fantasy; the leftovers of a child’s overactive imagination. Blue eyes that couldn’t quite be real, and a beauty that only existed in daydreams. 

Yet, here she was, standing stoic beside the ‘judge of the change’, surveying the approaching group with those piercing blue eyes. Paul had to remind himself to breathe before he collapsed from lack of oxygen. 

“My Lord Duke.” The older woman greeted his father, bowing her head, and so did the dream-girl, except the fire in her eyes never faded. 

“Dr Kynes. Thank you for agreeing to take us out.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, sire. This is my apprentice and pilot, Nami.” 

Duke Leto acknowledged the dream-girl, no, Nami, with a quick nod. She responded in kind.

“Now,” Kynes began, “We must check your stillsuits-” The two women stepped forward in sync to aid the group, but were stopped by Gurney’s blades at their necks. 

Paul couldn’t help but admire the way she didn’t flinch as a blade was held to her throat, merely raising her chin in defiance. Few would have the gall to glare at the soldier in such a way. 

“Gurney, no need. Let them work.” The Duke asserted, and Gurney lowered his sword, albeit rather begrudgingly. 

They then approached the group of outworlders to adjust their suits. Paul had to force himself to breathe normally as Nami approached him and the two locked eyes. He quickly tore his gaze away from hers, as she began to check his suit was on correctly. 

All the while, Kynes was going on a long and probably very interesting spiel about stillsuits and their benefits, but he found it very hard to concentrate when he was face to face with the girl he had been dreaming about all his life. 

“You’ve worn a stillsuit before?” Nami suddenly asked, inspecting some of the straps on the front. 

“No, this is my first time.” 

“Hm,” She cocked her head in confusion, “Your boots are fashioned slip-fast at the ankles. Who taught you to do that?” 

“Just seemed like the right way.” He said, trying to work out what was going on inside her head. 

Their exchange had now caught the attention of the rest of the group, and Nami turned to Kynes, muttering a few words in a different language, shaking her head slightly. 

It took Paul a few moments to realise that they were speaking in the language of the fremen. 

“You’re fremen.” He said plainly, like it had been obvious the whole time. 

“We are accepted in both sietch and village, yes.” Nami said, nodding. 

Before he could ask anymore questions, Kynes began to lead them to the aircraft, explaining that they would be travelling to the nearest harvesting field north of Arrakeen. 

The group all entered one of the small aircraft, and Paul watched as Nami began to sit in the pilot's chair, but was stopped by his father. 

“If you don’t mind, Nami, I’d like to pilot.” He said, with an almost childlike smile upon his face. Paul remembered his fathers admission that he had once wished to be a pilot himself. 

“Of course, my lord.” She bowed her head, and shuffled over to the co-pilot’s seat. 

The group all strapped themselves into their seats, grabbing a headset and preparing for take off. 

Duke Leto soon began to press several buttons, and Paul’s dream-girl followed suit, adjusting switches here and there. The Duke soon pulled up off the ground and turned in a near-perfect manoeuvre that left his co-pilot impressed. 

“You’re a pilot?” She asked. 

“Yes I was, in my youth. It has been many years though.” He smiled, regarding the desert beneath him in what looked like wonder. 

“You are very talented.” Nami complimented simply, and Paul watched as a newfound respect bled into her eyes, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of yearning for her to look at him in the same way. With respect earned by his own deeds, rather than the kind that stemmed from a generations old name. 

Kynes then began her narration as they moved over dunes, towards the spice fields. Paul chipped in here and there with a question or two for her. 

“Why don’t they just shield the crawlers?” He asked, looking down at the desert below, where one of the crawlers was moving. Was this the desert power his father had been talking about?

“Shields are a death sentence in the desert.” Nami chipped in, turning her head momentarily to look at Paul, who tore his face away in embarrassment when he felt a slight heat rise to his cheeks. 

“Yes,” Kynes continued for her apprentice, “It attracts the worms and drives them into a killing frenzy.” 

“Is that one of the worms?” His father asked, pointing at a vague cloud of dust on the horizon. 

Kynes picked up a pair of binoculars from her lap and peered into them for a moment, before answering, “That’s a worm alright. And a big one. Nami, call it in for me?” 

“On it.” She replied, and began speaking into the headset in various codes, asking for any carriers in the area. 

It didn’t take long for one to appear, and it began making its way to the crawler below. Paul watched in awe as it made its descent. He knew spice harvesting was dangerous, and of course accommodations had to be made, but the technology used was truly fascinating. How was that tiny carrier going to lift that enormous crawler?

He would, unfortunately, never find out. Because as the carrier attempted to attach itself, one of the arms snapped. Suddenly an influx of frenzied shouts came over the radio in confusion, as Kynes chipped in to explain the situation. 

The Duke then snapped into action. 

“How many men on that crawler?” 

“A crew of 21.” Kynes replied. 

“Our ships can only take 6 each. That leaves 3 men.” Paul added. 

“We’ll find a way.” His father responded, flicking a switch before dropping into a nosedive, the other two ships following suit behind him. 

Soon, they were landing just beside the crawlers, and unbuckling themselves from their seats inside the aircraft. Paul was the first up and moving. 

“The shield generators should weigh about the same as a few men.” Paul said, waiting for Gurney to finish undoing his seatbelt. 

“Good idea,” Gurney said, “I’ll toss them out, go instruct the men.” He said, patting the younger boy on the shoulder as he moved to get rid of the shields, Paul slipping past him and onto the sand below. 

As he dropped onto the sand of the desert for the first time, he couldn’t help but pause. Something about his boots on the ground felt natural, and as he looked down at the swathe of gold, he had never felt more at home. 

What snapped him into action again was the thud of a shield generator falling from the aircraft, and then Paul was moving, running towards the groups of men coming out of the crawler. 

“7 over there, 7 over there, move!!” He shouted, pointing to the various aircraft waiting for them and waving them over.

And then a cloud of sand engulfed him. 

Paul quickly brought his mask to his face and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the stinging pain of millions of grains of sand hitting him. And then suddenly everything around him seemed to still, and he brought his mask down away from his face, opening his eyes. 

He was surrounded by a cloud of dust, and he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. 

Paul took a deep breath in, feeling the way his nostrils tingled as he inhaled, and noticing the sparkle of the dust around him. 

He wasn’t standing in dust, but spice. 

 Before his eyes the real world melted away, and he was overtaken by visions. Visions of violence, death, the dunes of Arrakis, a blade, and finally Nami’s face, blue-blue eyes staring into his own. 

Then she began to cry, tears streaming down her face. The face that had seemed so stoic in the real world was not so in his vision. 

Then his vision began to return, and through the haze of spice he heard something familiar, before realising what it was. 

“I recognise your footsteps old man…” Paul whispered, jolting awake as Gurney clapped him on the shoulder, hauling him to his feet. 

“C’mon!” He shouted, glancing to the side. Paul followed his gaze, and was immediately spurred into action as he saw the fast approaching sandworm. 

Immediately he was sprinting towards the aircraft, locking eyes with his father through the windshield as he began to take off, spinning so the open door was facing them. 

And there she was. 

Gurney was the first to reach her, and she quickly hauled him up into the aircraft, pushing him in while not taking her eyes off Paul. 

“Atreides!” She shouted, holding out her hand for him to take, evident concern in her eyes. 

He pumped his legs faster than he thought possible, catching up with the aircraft and grabbing her hand, watching as the sandworm emerged from the very place he had been kneeling, overtaken by visions. 

Eventually he pulled himself away from the sight of the desert, clambering up the ramp towards Nami, who quickly shut the door behind him. 

“Thank you.” Paul said to her, still slightly breathless. 

“No problem.” She replied, dusting a few grains off his shoulder before returning to her seat beside the Duke, slipping on her headset and reporting their re-entry into general airspace. 

Paul moved back to his seat just behind her, trying to ignore his fathers angry gaze, as well as quell the aggressive beating of his heart. Their trip had been more eventful than he thought. 

Soon the aircraft was landing, and Paul stood to get up, wanting to get away from one of his fathers lectures, but not before saying goodbye to Nami. 

“Thank you, again.” He said, quickly.

She smiled this time, her face softening ever so slightly, “Take care, Paul Atreides. I pray we meet again.” 

He nodded, unable to form words in response as his tongue had grown heavy in his mouth. And then he ran away, jumping out of the aircraft as quickly as he could before he blurted out anything stupid.  

*

Paul whipped around taking in the sudden appearance of so many Fremen around him and his mother. They must have seen them running from the sandworm. 

“Do not run. You will only waste precious water.” A man said from above him. He seemed to be a leader. Upon closer inspection, Paul realised it was Stilgar, the man who his father had received. 

“Stilgar? Do you remember me? You came before my fathers council.”

“Ah, yes. The Atreides boy.” 

“Stop wasting time, we need their water!” A cry came from above, and as Paul looked up, he saw a man, and beside him, his dream-girl. 

“Quiet Jamis. You know we cannot harm him. He is Atreides. Besides,” Nami jumped down from one of the ledges to stand beside Stilgar, “I will vouch for him.”

Objections erupted from the rest of the Fremen, but her eyes remained locked with Paul’s. Stilgar quickly jumped in to quiet them. 

“That is fine. The boy is young, he can still learn our ways. However, the woman cannot.” He declared, and Paul looked to Stilgar in horror, moving backwards to stand in front of his mother protectively. Although, it was mostly meaningless, as he knew his mother could protect herself perfectly well. 

“She’s too old to learn?” He asked, his voice harsh. 

“Atreides…” Nami said softly, almost like a warning not to push further. 

But he didn’t have to, as the Fremen were already drawing their knives, and Stilgar was removing the outer layer of cloth he was wearing. And then, his mother was leaping out from behind him, and she and Stilgar became locked in battle. 

Paul took the opportunity to gain the upperhand, climbing up to a higher ledge and stealing a maula pistol from one of the Fremen warriors, but not before shooting Nami an apologetic glance. 

As he looked back down, he saw that his mother had made quick work of the Fremen leader, holding his own blade to his throat. Nevertheless, he activated the pistol and kept it pointed at one of the nearby Fremen.

“Peace, woman. You did not tell me you were a weirding woman and a fighter.” He sighed. 

“Our conversation ran short.” She snapped, not letting go of him. 

“Peace. I judged you too hastily.” 

Jessica then released Stilgar, handing him back his blade, meanwhile Paul lowered his pistol.

“The woman is under my charge until we reach sietch Tabr. Nami, are you still willing to vouch for the boy?”

“Yes.” She said firmly, and the rest of the Fremen sighed, making a cutting notion on the top of their wrists with their blades, before sheathing them. 

Once that was done, Stilgar began climbing up the ledge to approach Paul, holding out a hand for the maula pistol. 

“Come now. You will get your own when you have earned it.” He said, and the younger man sighed, returning the weapon to him, albeit begrudgingly. 

That was when ‘Jamis’ decided to chip into the proceedings once more. 

“I will not have them.”

“Jamis, I have spoken,” Stilgar said, “Be still.”

“You talk like a leader, but the strongest leads. She bested you. I invoke the Amtal.” 

Paul’s mother stiffened beside him, and although he did not yet know what that meant, he knew it did not bode well. 

“Jamis, you may not challenge her-”

“Then who will fight in her place?”

“Jamis,” Nami piped up, “Do not do this, the night is fading.”

“Then the sun will witness this death, Nami. Where is her champion?” 

Paul now understood what was going on, and if anyone was going to fight for his mother it would be him. 

He stepped out from behind Stilgar, and walked towards Jamis in the way he had been taught to as a Duke’s son, back straight, head held high.

“I accept her champion.”

Stilgar sighed as Jamis brushed past them, but soon followed suit. As did the rest of the Fremen, his mother included, until it was only him and Nami left. 

“So, we meet again, Atreides.” She smiled, her voice slightly teasing. 

“Mhm. I see you’ve been praying.” Paul smirked, hoping to get the upper hand over her.

“Have you not?” She asked in faux shock, and it sent Paul spinning, because although he had not been praying, he had dreamt of her every night since he last saw her. 

“Besides,” Nami continued, not noticing his sudden flush, “I am beginning to regret my prayers. You are causing trouble already.” 

“It’s in my nature.”

“Evidently. Now, come along, you have a duel to prepare for. Jamis is a good fighter, if you try hard you may just die with honour.” She declared, a wry smile on her face as she turned on her heel and led him further into the rocks of the desert. 

[dyvimwhitehart]

i will actually never be over the narrative importance of azteca. yes it’s the first time the wizard fails, but that failure results in the destruction of an entire world, which means the death of most of its denizens and a great deal of its culture. and the fact that it’s predated by worlds like dragonspyre and celestia, specifically

azteca was less accessible to the rest of the spiral (in comparison to worlds like wizard city, marleybone, zafaria, etc) already. by the time the yw reaches it, they’ve already been to their share of since-destroyed worlds. they are, however, always seeing the aftermath of the destruction

they’ve wandered around the destroyed academy in dragonspyre and seen the lava moats in the streets and talked to the ghosts, all those things coming together to slowly paint a picture of what was once a functioning society. and then the real tragedy of that, i’d argue, hits full-force in the hall of time when the yw gets to step into and witness the old dragonspyre in all its beauty and greenery. i think this has to be a really pivotal moment for the yw because old dragonspyre looks somewhat like wizard city. they’re a child that’s realizing, if i DONT succeed in beating malistaire, current dragonspyre is what my world and all the worlds i’ve visited since will become. and they DO succeed!

and then they are sent to celestia, another mostly ruined world. it’s brighter than dragonspyre, but there’s a hell of a lot more activity, and the overall tone is much different. however, the wizard has been introduced to destruction in dragonspyre and has had their worldview of places like that forever changed. they know what was at stake and what has since been lost. it’s a great way to start the second arc that i think can pair really well with the young wizard’s growth to young adulthood. this is where morganthe is introduced, and the next chase begins, and once again— they know what they have to do and the consequences of what happens if they don’t succeed

but there’s just absolutely no way they can see azteca’s destruction coming. even if xibalba is an ever persistent presence, even if ruin has been foretold— the wizard has never lost! morganthe plays them like w fiddle! and azteca is the first destroyed world they spend a long time in prior to its destruction. they get to know it’s citizens, they spend time in some of the most beautiful and lush locations in the game, they immerse themselves in aztecan culture and practices. they grow to care about this place before it’s all wiped away so that, when it is, stepping into the ruined zocalo doesn’t feel the same as stepping into the ruined basilica or the celestian base camp. it has to hurt so much more, feel so much heavier, like a personal loss rather than just a mission loss

and to go to khrysalis right after that? to immediately have to rally the burrowers and the mantises? to walk around a world that was thought to be lost, but is still clinging on, and have to do that all over again????? man

[wandering-winchesters]

If this is how I go, it’s worth it.

Dean x injured reader

Word count: 1,926

Trigger Warnings: injury, blood, mention of a firearm.

Summary: reader gets hurt protecting Dean.

A/N: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know! Masterlist

I’ve always had a hard time letting people into my life. Introducing them to the real me, the darker side of me that I hide behind a bubbly facade. The childhood that shaped me, something that very few people know about. When I was little there was no one to protect me from the things that I had to live through, the nightmarish situations that I still relive too often in my sleep. In adulthood, I’ve changed the narrative. I’ve become the protector, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help someone else. Save someone else. Especially those that I love and hold close to my heart.

Sam and Dean have always held a special place in my life. Ever since I met them, on a hunt many years ago. They’d taken me under their wing, Sam willingly, Dean reluctantly. I knew nothing of the supernatural until I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and become the next helpless victim of a nest of vampires. That was until Sam and Dean showed up, just in time.

They knew I didn’t have a great childhood, I’d clued them into that much. However, I would never let them in entirely. It was too much, I didn’t want them to think of me any differently. I’ve seen the way Dean already looks at me after hunts, the annoyance that comes over him when things don’t go the way he wanted. I see the concern that washes over Sam, when I come close to being injured, or when I walk away with cuts and bruises. I don’t need their pity, they don’t need that burden.

Through everything over the years, I began to love them more than I thought possible. Sam like a brother. Dean like an annoying asshole, but also my best friend that I loved with all of my heart, not that I would ever tell him. I couldn’t, he would never feel the same way I was sure of it.

So when I saw that demon smirk and point a gun directly towards Dean’s head, I never hesitated to throw myself onto him and shove him to the ground. My body blocking the path of the bullet, giving Sam enough time to finish the exorcism, the black cloud erupting from the helpless man and fleeing the room.

“What the hell, Y/N. You shouldn’t have done that!” Dean yells, anger etching its way across his face, the concern only evident from the tone of his voice. His eyes searching mine for any sign of pain.

“He was going to kill You Dean.” I grovel, pushing myself off of him, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Dean scowls, his hand coming up to his face to wipe some sweat from his brow.

“So what? You were going to sacrifice yourself for me? How much of an idiot are you?”

I roll my eyes at him, pushing off my thighs to stand from the squatting position I had moved into. It wasn’t until I stood fully upright and began to stretch my limbs that the searing pain caught up to me. I press my hand to my abdomen instinctively, trying to dull the pain.

“I’m not an idiot De-“ I stop mid sentence as I bring my hand up to eye level. Red. Dripping , red blood, covers the entirety of my fingers. My eyes dart up from my hand, locking with Sam’s from across the room. He’s staring back at me, shock etched across his face, but beginning to walk towards me.

“That’s debatable- oh my god Y/N, fuck.” Dean starts, his tone changing halfway through his lecture. He takes the two steps necessary to get to me, taking his flannel off in the process. I feel his hands grip my body, one going to my back, the other balling his flannel up and pressing it tightly against the wound in my abdomen.

“Sam, you’ve gotta help me.” Dean pleads, his eyes never leaving my face.

My body starts to feel numb, the adrenaline wearing off and searing pain roaring through every nerve ending in my body. I feel my legs collapse beneath me, Dean quickly compensating for my lack of lower body strength, by pulling me into his embrace.

I laugh bitterly, coughing and choking on what I assume is blood making its way through my lungs and out of my throat.

“If this is how I go De, it’s worth it. I promise you.” I whisper, my eyes locking with his vivid green ones. His eyes. I’d never allowed myself to stare into his eyes for this long, the deep green is enchanting. Pulling me in, the longer I look. I barely even notice my tears beginning to fall, I’m too focused on the way his eyes are beginning to water as he stares back at me.

I can see his lips moving, feel the way he’s shaking me gently, his hand cupping my face. Sam is right next to me too, I feel the floor pressing into my body as they lower me to the ground, in an attempt to slow the bleeding and apply more pressure. None of that matters now. Nothing matters now, my vision is blurring. My eyelids are heavy, so heavy.

“Hey!” Dean’s firm voice breaks through my haze, his hand lightly slapping my face, “don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes. You don’t get to die on me, you hear me sweetheart?” I blink rapidly, trying to clear my field of vision. I momentarily succeed, my eyes locking with his again. I can see the absolute panic engraved into every ounce of this man’s face, he’s moving me now. My head falls forward as he places an arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees. He tucks my head against his chest with his chin, pressing a kiss to my sweat soaked hairline. I continue to fight the wave of exhaustion sweeping over me, blinking my eyes trying to keep them open. The last thing I see is Dean, looking down at me pleading for me to stay with him. But slowly, ever so slowly, my eyes fall closed and the world around me goes black

-

Agony.

This must be hell, the amount of pain that I’m in, the only explanation is hell.

A low groan escapes my lips, every inch of my skin is on fire. Muscles and nerves that I didn’t know I had are screaming out in protest as I try to take a full breath. I manage to inhale, immediately turning into a coughing fit as I choke on the air entering my lungs.

“Easy. Slow breaths, sweetheart.” A hand comes to rest on the crown of my head, stroking my hair gently. The touch startling me, causing me to panic and try to brush away the touch.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” His voice rushes over my senses, calming me, reassuring me.

I force myself to open my eyes, unsure what to expect.

“Dean?” I whisper, finally realizing that he’s here in-front of me. “Am I dead?” My voice barely functioning, my throat dry and hoarse.

“It’s me sweetheart. You’re not dead. I told you I wasn’t going to let you go.” He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He holds a cup up to my lips, letting me take small sips, his fingers never leaving my skin.

“I must be dead, the Dean I know is never this nice to me.” I whisper, a small laugh escaping me, which I immediately regret. Relief floods over deans face, the crease in his brow lessens, a small smile reaches his eyes this time.

“That’s not true, idiot.” He says, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“That’s more like it, bitch.” I say, squeezing his hand back.

-

The next few weeks pass slowly, I’m never alone for more than five minutes. The boys take turns, keeping me company, changing my bandages, helping me shower, and just all around waiting on me hand and foot. Dean spends every night on the couch, that he had dragged into my room in the bunker. I don’t object, too weak and tired to even dare. I spend a lot of time sleeping, nightmares plaguing my every attempt at resting.

Tonight is one of those nights, I’ve already awoken from a nightmare. Now I lay on my side, gazing at Dean sitting on the couch. His fingers hovering over the keyboard on his laptop, researching some creature that he has refused to tell me about. Any time I have asked, it starts an argument about how the only thing I need to think about right now is recovering.

“I can feel you staring.” He smirks, bringing his eyes to meet my own, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile. He seems older, worry is etched deeper into his face, his eyes not nearly as bright as they used to be. The dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the terrible late night lighting of my room.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so annoying I can’t not stare.” I mumble, gently pushing myself up on my elbow. Trying to conceal the wince that follows this slight movement.

Dean chuckles, closing his laptop and turning his body to face me.

“Y/N, we need to talk about what happened back there.” He stares, his brow furrowing again. So many emotions sweep across his face at once, I cant read him.

“You can’t do that again. You cant throw yourself into harms way to save me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. What am I saying? Something did happen to you. I already have a hard time looking at you, knowing you almost died to save me. I love you too much, to let you die for me.” He wrings his hands as he speaks, his eyes moving away from mine and focusing on the wooden floor boards beneath his feet.

A silence falls between us for a few moments, his words hanging heavy in the air. My head spinning at his words, I love you too much. Dean Winchester loves me.

“Dean, I don’t think you understand me nearly as well as you think you do. There is nothing you can say or do that would stop me from taking a bullet for you again. I will always do everything in my power to protect you. Protect you in the way that I never had. You would do it for me De, you gotta let me do it for you too.” His eyes are trained on me again, red rimmed and watery. He swipes at them with his fingers, clearing his throat and maintaining eye contact with me once more.

I slide my feet towards the edge of the bed, intent upon going to sit near to him. He stops me with a look and a few mumbled words about how I better not move my ass from my spot or else.

I huff, patting the bed next to me.

“C’mere then, Winchester.” I say, watching his every move as he crosses the distance of the bedroom to sit by my side.

“De-“I rest my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves. He reaches over and intertwines our fingers, his thumb tracing a pattern into the back of my hand. “I love you too, more than I thought possible. I’ll always do anything I can to save you. On this side of hell and the next.”

[froot-batty]

next batch of designs are done! gotham city sirens time >:) blurbs about them under the cut, along with explanations of flags and neurodivergencies!

Pamela Isley came from a rural flower farm a long ways from Gotham. Her parents let her run wild from a very young age, and one of her favorite places on their property to go was the pond, deep in the woods, where everything grew just a bit too tall and nothing looked quite as it should've. Pamela didn't know that this pond was actually highly polluted by the dumping of experimental chemicals from a nearby "research" laboratory. She thought being able to communicate with the plants - the Green, she called it - was completely normal.

...Until the people from that laboratory heard about the mysterious girl helping the plants grow stranger. They came to Pamela's parents to ask if it would be possible to study it, and they, not realizing what exactly that meant, agreed. They whisked it away to a facility in Gotham, where Pamela would end up never seeing it's parents again.

She was kept there for the rest of her childhood and into her adulthood, being experimented on until she twisted into the plant beast that she is today. When she escaped, it came after years of hiding the true strength of her powers, so she could build them up enough to turn the facility to rubble.

(It is AroAce, Agender, and Intersex)

Harleen Quinzel always had trouble controlling her impulses. Coming from a very wealthy, very upper-crust family, any step out of line was harshly corrected by either of her parents. As a child she didn't know any better, but after years and years of repression coming from her family, she eventually clammed up and tried to fit into their perfect little mold. This included going to medical school, though she did at least get to pick something she was genuinely passionate about - psychology.

Harley was finally living on their own by the time they started working at Arkham, though they'd not yet broken out of that mental control their parents still had over them. Being in Arkham was like being on an alien planet. They had come from a world where everyone was fake, and Arkham seemed so...real. Talking with their patients opened their mind up even further. Even if what they did was violent, or utterly nonsensical to everyone else, insanity seemed like it was a sort of freedom that Harley never had.

This was compounded by it meeting the Joker. He saw that piece of it that wanted, desperately, to get free, and through their sessions he was able to get into it's head and...push it over the edge, so to speak.

(Harley and the Joker are not explicitly romantically involved in this, I should mention. They've got a weird queerplatonic thing going on. Also they're not toxic they're BFFs forever)

(They are Pansexual, Genderfluid, and have ADHD and Borderline Personality Disorder)

Selina Kyle grew up like an alley cat on the streets of Gotham. With two addict parents in the Narrows who cared very little about her, she was virtually homeless, with how little time she spent at home and how much she spent wandering the dangerous streets. It was in the Narrows that she met one of her closest childhood friends, Harvey Dent, and through him, the elusive Bruce Wayne.

The three of them were thick as thieves all through her childhood, though began to drift away when college time came around. Bruce had up and left the moment he turned 18 without any real warning to the two of them, and Harvey was off to college to try and become a lawyer. This left Selina all alone, once again.

But she had made a pact to herself. She didn't want to live on the streets of Gotham forever. She had started pickpocketing from a very young age, so she would just expand her skills - become Gotham's cat burglar. It started out as only a way to pay her bills, but she found she grew addicted to the feeling of it; the freedom of being able to slip into wherever she wanted and make some poor, rich fool a million dollars short. It was a sort of revenge for her (and the regular cash flow didn't hurt).

She was surprised when Bruce came back to Gotham and tried to reconnect with her. They hadn't talked in over a decade, but they found themselves reconnecting with surprising ease. Their close friendship would drive Harvey mad with jealousy, but neither of them realized that until it was too late.

The scar on her face is from Harvey's attempt on her life, after he became Two-Face.

(She is a Lesbian)

[scaly-freaks]

inmate 13453

okay don't get excited, i just felt like writing a bit of a drabble to feel out the atmosphere of a potential start to this au (clicking the tag will give up the other stuff i've posted for it btw)

btw check out the playlist and the pinterest board made by @theageofsilver and @allicentsallure bc they're fab

cw: kidnapping

Soft seventeen.

Bambi eyes, bambi legs.

There’s a certain edge to the way people describe the age she’s at. Not quite eighteen, not quite legal, tangible as cherry juice on greedy fingers. She isn’t sixteen, sweet and tender. It’s a soft first step into adulthood, skirting the border, the in between, the unknowable horrors that lie ahead.

She fucking hates being seventeen.

It’s a shit number first of all. Odd numbers make her want to spew. They feel like nails on a chalkboard, polyester static on leg hair. She can’t even dance, so whatever ABBA are singing about doesn’t apply.

Amara sticks out her tongue and tastes the air as the breeze blows west. She swears she can get a sense of the world when she does.

Her stepfather mocks her for it. That blue-eyed, blonde maniac with the ugly Buick Electra he treats like a brand-name Italian from the southern coasts of Europe. He used to treat her mother the same. Until he began to tell Amara you look just like her when she was young. He leaves his porn tabs open on his computer, as if he wants her to know. ‘Teen’, ‘Latina’, ‘Stepfather’, ‘Rough’, ‘Face-fucking’, ‘Breeding.’

She doesn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in her.

She really wants to tell her mother, but there is a chance her mother will look right through her instead. She’s been doing that a lot more nowadays. They can’t afford her meds anymore. She just sits on the porch and watches and waits. For what, is anyone's guess.

>> can you pick me up?

>> its dark

>> pls

>> sorry ik its inconvienant

'Step-Daddy' always replies quickly when it’s her. He has a heart next to her name on his phone. She never agreed to that.

>> it’s spelled inconvenient

“Suck my dick,” Amara tells the screen and switches her phone off before he can message again.

She can walk.

The route back runs dangerously close to the edge of the forest. All kinds rot away in there, but she doesn’t like to think of them by name. They’ll become real if she does. She wishes her mother had found a man who lived in the wetlands, and not here at the cursed border between life and the realm beyond. Marshes are easier to understand. Forests are cursed.

Still, life is horribly simple here. Her high school is placid and filled with the dull-eyed children of dull-eyed adults. The gas station where she works didn’t bother to interview her. She walked in and the guy behind the counter stared at her breasts until he remembered she had a face. Her breasts aced the interview for her.

Can I work here? Just until I graduate.

Sure, grab a nametag.

Four months later, and she doesn’t mind it anymore. Her brain shuts off. Her customers are a ragtag mixture of suspicious, ferret-eyed locals and the occasionally buoyant hiker from out of state. If she doesn’t look like she belongs, she’s pretty, and that usually gives people like her a pass. At least until the sleazy comments become ethnically charged. But even then, Amara has a way of making her eyes go ‘dopey’ and just smiling like she’s too slow to understand. Displaying discomfort is what eggs them on (kind of a nasty realisation she opened her eyes to one day).

An engine growls some way down the road.

Old Chevy pickup, faded gold.

She recognises it from the parking lot at the station near the end of her shift.

A guy stepped out, young, early twenties, with a shock of hair that looked white until she realised it was just really, really blonde. She remembers thinking it was odd. The range of blondes in town runs from deep and dirty to the artificial bleach rattled out of holographic boxes of dye. No one has hair like his. She’d have noticed.

His eyebrows were a little darker, and his lashes were darker still. He had a funny way of walking, and he looked at her like she had the head of a fish and the body of a human being. Amara did her best dopey eyes. She asked him if he’d had a good day, pointed out the offers they had on pork rinds. He didn’t say a word. His skin had smears of black grease, glistening with sweat and bronzed by the sun.

Deep blue eyes.

Horribly deep.

Not the kind you’d want to swim in. She likes a softer blue, blue like chlorine, reminiscent of the safety of swimming pools. His were anything but.

She picks up her speed, and for some reason, puts her phone to her ear as if mid-conversation. Nothing about him said he was dangerous at the time. At least not from the way he’d barely said a word or looked down at her body. He was just there, and then he was gone.

And now here he is again.

The Chevy hits the horn. He is creeping closer. Amara turns and waves at him to go on. She doesn’t want a ride. Why isn’t he rolling down the window to offer one though?

It slows to a crawl. Her throat closes up. She has a feeling speeding up will give him what he wants. He’s obviously trying to be a prick. But if she goes back to talk to him, that would be exponentially worse. She switches her phone back on and sees her stepfather’s message telling her to get back home herself after she didn’t reply to tell him her location.

She quickly shoots him a message, and prays he’ll respond.

He doesn’t.

Fuck it.

She walks faster. The Chevy matches the increase. Sweat blooms on the back of her neck.

Every woman has that oh fuck moment. That I’m going to be on the evening news moment. The please god if he catches me let him kill me before he gets to raping me moment.

None of that goes through her head. She keeps thinking of her mother’s cooking. Her mother hasn’t cooked in a year and a half, not since her mind began to slip. But Amara can taste the spices on her tongue, the way the rice was perfectly simmered, the cinnamon in the back of her throat, the smell that clung to the walls, the heat of it.

I wanna come home, Momma.

Her mother’s face gathers into shape in her head, built with sand particles and saltwater. When the Chevy roars, she starts running. Her mother vanishes.

The lights of the truck blink across the tarmac. It’s a signal. But it isn’t for her.

She looks over her shoulder, and she can’t see him.

Run me over. Leave me like carrion on the road. Let the maggots eat me. Don’t cut me up first.

He slows when she starts to tire out. Picks up when she tries again. No other car has graced this road since she first turned onto it. A sign points her to the right, ushering her deeper into the backwoods. The town is to the left.

He figures out where she’s going when she suddenly makes a dash for the bend in the road.

There’s no time to dodge the pickup when it goes for her this time. The wheels skid as he yanks it at an angle and blocks her way. The door flies open and misses her by an inch. His arm grabs for her. She dodges, animal fear and rust on her tongue. He still doesn’t say a word.

A heavy fist connects with the small of her back and she drops like a stone.

The pain is electric. Air turns her lungs into taut balloons, but she can’t make a sound. She twists around and the bruise forming over her spine grates. Adrenaline quickly numbs it as she lashes out with her arms and legs. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting. Her teeth hit home. A mouthful of tattooed flesh, car oil and sweat. Still no sound from him.

She never sees the fist coming, just like last time.

A blow to the head and lights out, nancy.

[icannot3]

"Apologies and Tire-Swings"

Jimmy Darling x Reader

Word count: 3.1k (another long one wooo I'm on a roll)

Warnings: there's arguing? Idk if that should be a warning or not lmao. It ends on a good note!!! So no worries hehe

Taglist: @taintandviolent @lilthbunny @quickandsilvers @kaismanwich (comment if you'd like to be added!)

....................

The humid summer Florida air is where you find yourself feeling most at peace, among the many you love. There's nothing extravagant about your lifestyle, yet there's a deep level of contempt that radiates through you with warm, fuzzy delight that's hard to beat. Blood relations are irrelevant. Your family has always been within the circus, among the socially unacceptable that are all bonded by the oppression they face in the real world. It sparks a deep level of understanding and trust that can never be broken.

Being born and raised around the same people for eighteen years, you only found that Jimmy could hold such a special place in your heart, different from the others. A friendship that roots deeply into your childhood, flourishing through your teens and carrying now into young adulthood. Jimmy, your partner in crime, your sanction. Hell, your soulmate and other half. He was there through all of the good and the bad. There to wipe your tears when you were still scared of stages, there to cheer you on, there to beat up shitty ex-lovers and remind you how you always deserved better.

Truly, you have no clue what you would do without him.

Nothing brings up the pleasant feeling of nostalgia every summer like the first show of the year. You've been practicing your act since last season. As a contortionist, learning flips to impress the crowd in different ways is a necessity. You take pride in the fact that you managed to learn how to gracefully aerielle across the stage during the cold winter months. Jimmy, of course, was a big help, always spotting you and never letting you fall. He himself learned a couple more juggling tricks. Despite his talent, he still gets unbearably shy about showcaseing it every season.

Performance night is finally here after your long anticipated await. Jimmy is before you, which is how it's always been. Elsa is a woman of order who wouldn't dare to switch up the original line, even despite Jimmy's pleas against going first immediately after her opening. You hold one of his large hands between your own two. He's shaking but trying to play it off, yet another tradition before every show. You stroke his thumb, trying to ease his worries.

"Jimmy, I just know you're gonna do great! Just like every year. You've never disappointed." Your voice comes out as an encouraging whisper in order to not be heard over Elsa's singing. Jimmy swallows harshly, his breathing coming out in deep, shakey exhales. It's a method he's used since he was young to calm himself, something his mother taught him.

Elsa's singing comes to a grand end, colorful confetti exploding everywhere. Her beautiful performance brings an inspired uproar from the crowd. You release Jimmy's hand, stepping in front of him. He quickly grabs his props, the small box full of them almost slipping from his trembling hands. "You say that every year."

You chuckle, fixing his hair back to perfection by readjusting his curls. "And every year, I mean it just the same. Blow their minds, Jimmy. There's a reason you go first." Before he can even argue against your statement, his name is called onto the stage. You cheer behind the stage with the crowd, giving him one final push of encouragement. He's good at hiding his panic, smoothly proceeding to the middle of the platform and reciting his lines. He only stutters once but is quick to get back on track and play it off. You couldn't be more proud.

His hands work magic, although you can hardly see the shadow figures he uniquely creates with the florescent lights, the crowd gasps in awe, which tells you enough. He ends the first part of his act with a joke that makes many in the tent chuckle before moving on to the part he stresses over most. His worries are pointless. He takes three balls in his hands to start, tossing them skillfully in the air.

Jimmy is sweating, deeply concentrated on his task. So much so that he stood no chance when a foreign object in the crowd strikes him in the face. It's luckily not enough to hurt him, but the balls he once held fall to the ground and roll off the stage. You gasp, stunned by the ignorance of the act. Jimmy's concentrated face switches from that to one full of rage. He clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"Do something entertaining, freak!"

It's a deep masculine voice from the crowd. You share Jimmy's rage, wanting to scream at whoever dares to speak to him in such a manner. Part of you panics when you see Jimmy walk to the very front of the stage, his murderous rage clearly radiating across the room. "The fuck did you just say to me? I'll kick your ass!" Jimmy's shout booms intimidatingly across the room. Everyone knows that his threat is far from empty. You hear Elsa run across the stage, the hurried clanking of her heels being easy to distinguish. She makes an apologetic remark before escorting Jimmy away. He doesn't do much to fight her, but his piercing eyes never lose sight of the man in the crowd.

You take the backstage route off of the stage and search for Jimmy outside. Your act won't take place for a good while, so you know you have time to spare. He's mumbling something under his breath in a frustrated manner. You trot over to him, immediately placing a hand on his shoulder. "Jimmy, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He doesn't respond, flinching away from your touch instead. Jimmy continues to quickly trudge forward, eventually meeting a tree. He punches it hard. The bark crumbles away from the place of impact as he grabs his red knuckles. You once again run back up to him, putting yourself between him and the tree. "Jimmy, stop! You're hurting yourself."

"I can't keep doing this. I won't be treated that way - it ain't right." He sounds so hopeless, like the fire within him has been put out. His hot rage has simmered down to defeated ashes that fall to the ground. His eyes are red, and the sight brings you pain. You try to bring a hand to his cheek to wipe away the moisture, but he pushes it away. "Jimmy, you can't let this stuff bother you so much. It's not worth it."

He scoffs, taking a step away from you. "Like you would ever fucking know what it feels like." Jimmy looks away, his annoyance clear in his movements. "You're not a freak. You never have been. You have no clue what it's like to be looked down on. When you walk through town, no one says a damn thing or stares at you like you're a monster. You don't ever have to worry about goin' into a diner and being denied service because of how you look." His words are true. You were adopted into the circus only because you were dropped off and abandoned next to one as a baby of only a few hours old. It just so happened that you were born with the skill of extreme flexibility. But his statement hurts like a knife twisting inside of your chest. "I know, I'm not taking away from what you go through at all. I'm just saying that at the end of the day, none of this matters. No one in that crowd matters, Jimmy! Nothing bad they say about you is true, that just comes with this career."

"Well, maybe I'm not like you, and I don't want to be cooped up in some dead-end circus where I get disrespected the moment I walk on stage." Jimmy delivers his final blow before stomping in the opposite direction. "Go back to your fucking show." Immediate rage fills you whole. He's never spoken to you in such a way. For that matter, the two of you have never even argued. You feel wronged, and the shock leaves you infuriated. You can almost pull your hair out from frustration. It was only your intention to help him, and he took it to the extremes. Instead of arguing more with him, which feels like speaking to a brick wall, you head back to the tent to finish the night and hopefully blow off some steam. When you return, no one dares to utter a word about your disappearance once they see your agitated state.

Even weeks later, you couldn't help but wonder if Jimmy had always perceived you in such a foul manner. You feel judged and betrayed when thinking back on it. The stubbornness you both share in common has left things silent between you both, not a single word uttered about the matter. Even Ethel was beginning to grow worried, as the two of you before were inseparable. Eve stopped you the one day, appearantly she tried to pry the issue out of Jimmy first but he refused to even discuss the matter. You simply told her that he needed to get over himself without much further explanation, which left anyone invested in the drama all the more confused.

Jimmy, out of rebellion, decided to stop performing in shows. This did little to keep the peace between he and Elsa. She would push him, but with that, Jimmy would shove and dissappear for days on end. Everyone was growing increasingly concerned, and you wouldn't have agreed to speak to Jimmy had Ethel herself not come to you personally; worried sick for her son. She explained how she believes you're truly the only one who can talk any sense to him. And how could you say no to the woman who practically raised you?

You decided to leave a note on the door on Jimmy's camper, which was a request to meet you at a nearby lake. You inquire that it would make you feel better about meeting him if he shows the mutual effort of trying to reconnect by coming. The spot holds a special sentiment between you two. Each summer in your youth was spent there for hours each day until the sun went down, having the time of your lives. Your heart flutters when you immediately find the old tire-swing still up on the same tree. You don't dare to touch it, scared the weakened rope would snap. All of the pleasant memories would be shattered. Jimmy was always such a gentleman when he was younger. He'd push you on that swing for hours if you asked him, never requesting you do the same in return.

You wait for an hour, maybe two. With night approaching and the soothing sound of the frogs chirping, you nearly fell asleep. Until you heard the quiet rustling of greenery behind you. There Jimmy stood, for a moment you almost entirely forgot about the dispute. A shred of happiness sprouted from seeing him in this place again after many years of abandonment. Although he'd grown into a young man, you could still make out the softness left in his cheeks and warmth in his smile that remained from all those many years ago. Jimmy wordlessly seats himself beside you. This is the closest you two have been to each other in a while.

"Can't believe that tire swing is still up." Jimmy opts to break the silence. "It was hardly even hangin' on when we were kids." You melt, finally realizing how much you missed just talking to him. It puts your soul at ease. "Yeah, I wonder how skinny we must have been to be able to both squeeze in the center of that thing." Jimmy chuckles with you, the night air causing the swing to flow with the wind. Another string of awkward tension fills the silence. So many things fly through your mind as you try to think of what to say. Jimmy himself seems lost in his silence. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm sorry about everything. How I came off wasn't my intention. I don't fully understand your struggles, and I don't have a right to act like I do." You scooch closer to him, allowing his body to block some of the chilly breeze. "But because I don't understand what you go through, I just want you to know that you can always talk to me, okay? I want to understand so I can help. You know you can tell me anything, right?" Jimmy stares at you, his eyes traveling from your eyes to the ground.

He stretches his arm out, allowing you to fully lean in as he surrounds you with his warmth. The hug is comforting and fills you with relief. "Well, I acted like an ass. So, really, I should be apologizing. I didn't mean anything I said, I was angry and lost control of my words, and I just - I'm sorry." He rubs over the goosebumps on your arms, smoothing them out with his warmth. "I should have just told you what was botherin' me." You cock a brow in his direction, urging him to go on.

"Honestly, I feel so trapped here. It's like I have no choice over what I do with my life. Sometimes I think about runnin' away, somewhere that I can get a house and a real job. Have a family, a wife. Hell, maybe even a dog." This makes you giggle, Jimmy's always wanted a dog. Once, he tried to take in a stray until his mother found out he was hiding it in her trailer. She came home to discover her new pillows torn to shreds on the ground. It's safe to say he was not allowed to keep the poor sucker. "Point is, I wanna see what's out there. Maybe with you. I just took it way outta proportion and hurt you in the process when you had no clue."

You lean into his shoulder, pulling him in tightly. "Oh, Jimmy... There's absolutely nothing wrong with that." You shake your head. "I want you to be happy, and I'll support you every step of the way." His breathing halts for just a few seconds. You would have missed it if your head wasn't pressed against his chest. He's shakey, a lot like how he gets before a performance. You can tell something else is bothering him. But instead of prying him for a reason, you sit in silence, waiting for him to share what he's comfortable with. A few minutes are in silence, just the two of you basking in the affection of one another.

"Every time I think about runnin' away, I think about doing it with you." He's quiet, his words slow and calculated. The thought makes your head spin and chest feel tight. Except it's not a bad feeling. You embrace it like a warm blanket. "There's another thing I haven't told you."

Jimmy pulls you a little tighter, as if he's scared that if he lets go, you'll escape. "Truth is, I'm so damn in love with you it hurts. I have been since we were kids. I've been threatening your boyfriends for years to make them leave so that I could have you all to myself, as terrible as that is to say." His hand strokes your hair as he places his chin over your head. You can feel his heart rate accelerate, but you're confident that it isn't nearly as fast as your own. "I've loved you since we were too young to even know what that word means, all the way back to when we'd play tag in these fields unsupervised and laugh together for hours." He takes one final deep breath. "I don't ever wanna live a life without you, and I'll stay here forever if that's what you want because you mean the world to me. And if having you means that I gotta get up and sing or juggle on a stage every now and then, I'll gladly do that."

You're stunned, flustered beyond the point of recuperating. You begin to question every idea of friendship you've ever had with Jimmy. And you come to realize that you've been in love with Jimmy from the moment you met him. It was just seen as a forbidden thing you wouldn't dare to explore. But really, there was no use in that because he already had. This entire time. Jimmy Darling loves you in more than just a platonic way, and you couldn't be happier sitting between his arms in this moment knowing that fact.

His hand, his beautiful perfect hand, traces along your jaw. He motions for you to tilt towards his face. You allow him, letting his thumb graze over your bottom lip so delicately you could cry. His nose grazes against your own, the playful sentiment making you smile. Jimmy takes this as an opportunity. His lips capture your own tenderly. It's addictive, like the sweetest liquor in town that you just can't get enough of. He's caressing your cheek, taking his time melting into your touch. By the end of it, he has you completely breathless, but then he eagerly continues for more. He nibbles your lower lip, deepening the longing you feel for him. You wrap your hands around his back. Without a word, he's laying you on top of the soft grass and hungrily having his way, trailing an assortment of kisses and teasing bites down your neck. It's heavenly, a feeling you're sure you couldn't experience with any other.

A loud crash frightens you, followed by the harsh splash of something colliding with water. Jimmy covers you with his body, scouting the area of any danger. Pinned underneath of him, you're unable to see what's going on. Until you hear his hysterical laughter before he rolls off of you. Sitting up, you see for yourself what is responsible for the sound.

The damn tire-swing. Its time had finally come to an end, the rope seems to have snapped, and there it went, rolling into the lake. You found yourself not as upset about it as you thought you'd be, laughing along with him. Once you finally come out of your hysterics, you roll over and lay against Jimmy's chest, throwing a leg over his own. He rubs small circles into your back, savoring every second.

"I knew that thing was gonna fall."

[merakiui]

About tweels in タコの花嫁 again... i thought it was SUPER juicy to see jades quiet distaste (compared to floyds loud hatred) for reader in the og. Like omggg they both hate me and they're sexy about it... AND I LOVE TO THINK ABT HOW THAT'D TRANSLATE IN A EEL X READER SCENARIO!!!! Oughhhh it's delicious!!! Jade hating you quietly for what your brothers done, now he's betrothed to some brat and he has to behave for the good of the kingdom so he can't hurt you or act out about it... AHHH he acts so friendly and polite but he's really thinking about disemboweling you!!!! Until he has that moment where he thinks about it, and he realizes, (it doesnt even come as a shock!) that he really doesn't mind a future with you anymore.

AAUGGHHHHG!!!! And Floyd still hating you, because while you got to sit in your pretty little castle pitying Jade and feeling bad for yourself because of your sudden engagement, Floyd was there with Jade every step of his recovery... and he HATES you and your family for what you put Jade through!!! For the scare of possibly losing his brother!!! But maybe that'd change.. you know, when he sees how happy you two end up... and how cute your fry together are :)

Or possibly before that!!! I mean, teen floyd going through puberty and his twins got a perfectly cute (but in floyds opinion, bratty) soon to be wife... I can absolutely see him developing a little crush during puberty and fantasizing about her into adulthood. Like a little boy pulling on a little girl's pigtails, except he actually has a valid reason to hate her.

and imagining reader slowky accepting it and reading mer/human love stories (like Ariel!) after the engagement like..... OTL OTL OTL investigating and researching mer marriages and mating culture by reading romances.......

I think I'm just a tweelmancer at heart. I loved the concept and the presentation of the tweels in タコの花嫁 and its made me think a lot about those crazy deranged fishes.

AAAAAA YES YES!!!!!! >w< omg this is so scrumptious!!!! Floyd being so open about his hatred for you compared to Jade's very quiet, very secret hatred is so fun. Floyd would have such a vicious opinion of you, but perhaps it changes or shifts slightly when he's going through puberty like you noted. Something like,,, it was always gross to see you and Jade holding hands or being cheesy and lovey-dovey with each other as you both try to get accustomed to being each other's betrothed. But now Floyd's actually a little jealous of Jade because Jade gets to have you all to himself,,, Floyd who only ever looked at you hatefully, so one day it sort of,,,,, hits him over the head. Since when were you so pretty? Since when was your smile so cute? T_T

aaaaaa orz and reader learning to accept it, soon strengthening the bond with Jade while Floyd's growing up with this strange amalgamation of hate-love for you. >:D maybe if Floyd's nice to you, Jade can consider sharing if he wants some fry of his own hehe.

🤝 you and me both, anon!!!! Tweelmancer so real and true. I adore those silly eels too much!!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) they deserve to have a cute darling for themselves!!!!

[mixtape-racha]

greenlight | lee minho

☆ part 2/8 of the 5 seconds of stray kids series ☆

words: 1.56k // warnings: soft dom!minho, dumbification (kinda)

“tell me you want me. tell me you want this as much as i do. we could have all night if you just say the word.”

and when minho looked at you with those bright eyes you’d grown to love, how could you deny him? in fact, you were sure you wanted this more than anything in the world.

your arms swung with minho’s hand in yours as you left the movie theater and headed back to the bus stop. it was your second official date after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and a movie after dinner seemed perfect - neither of you particularly enjoyed loud or flashy things anyway; your first date ever was literally just visiting the animal shelter and admiring the cute cats there.

although you had had your fair share of relationships during your early adulthood, you were sure that minho was your first real love. being with him, everything was perfect, and it made you feel like you were floating above cloud nine. you were lucky to live so close to him, too - being only across the hall in your respective university apartments - which meant you could spend as much time as you wanted with him to develop your budding relationship.

in fact, you only had one line left to cross. minho was in no rush to have sex with you - well, thats what he told himself, anyway. of course, he wanted to. everything you did was like a drug to him, and many of your date nights ended in him sloppily fucking into his palm before the scent of your perfume left his hoodie. but he was never going to rush you into it, and you had shown him no sign of needing him as bad as he needed you.

but god, he couldn’t have been more wrong. your trusty vibrator had finally given up and died from so much use after you and minho began your relationship. all he had to do was wink at you, and you were soaking. let alone if he put his hand on your thigh while driving, or leant down to whisper in your ear during a party. even during the movie - all he did was rub your arm comfortingly where he had an arm over your shoulders, and you had to clench your thighs to stop you from pouncing on him then and there. but you didn’t want to rush or push him into sleeping with you, and he seemed to have himself together a lot better than you did.

god, both of you were so oblivious.

you had decided very early into your meal - minho had insisted on taking you for sushi and stopping at a milkshake place on your way to the cinema - that you were going to stay at his dorm that night. now, with your skimpy underwear and innate craving to feel him all over you, you weren’t sure it was your best idea. i mean, after all, what was stopping you from pouncing on him like a wild animal in desperate need for a meal?

the bus ride was quiet - it was pretty busy, and neither of you particularly enjoyed that, so you situated yourselves at the back of the bus, sharing minho’s headphones as arctic monkey played. his flatmates (jisung and hyunjin) had gone out for a gig tonight, taking his car, and so you knew they would end up drunk in the backseat, parked in a random mcdonalds parking lot, leaving the entire dorm for the two of you until the early afternoon, most likely.

that thought had you craving your boyfriend even more, knowing you could be as loud as you wanted, and maybe - if he wanted to explore - not be confined to just his bedroom.

it wasn’t that either of you were inexperienced, but the idea of taking such a big step in your relationship was so important to you both that neither of you wanted it to be a rushed or impulsive decision. but god, you wanted him more and more as the bus approached your stop. you knew he wouldn’t care that you weren’t in pretty lingerie, or that you hadn’t shaved your legs. you knew he would think you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and you knew he’d voice that too. he would do anything to make you feel special and loved, and that night what you needed was him to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you.

the bus finally reached your stop, and you were so out of it that you allowed minho to manhandle you to your feet, pulling you along after thanking the driver. he chuckled at your vacant expression, rubbing your cheek softly.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby, hmm?” he questioned as you entered the elevator, only moments away from his apartment where you could finally have him all to yourself. your words seemed to betray you, mouth working faster than your brain as his words made you tremble.

“need you, min. just– need you.” your words came out as a whine as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder, which slightly inhibited his ability to lead you out of the elevator and to his front door, but he didn’t mind at all.

“yeah? want me to take you all night, huh?” you had previously discussed all your likes and dislikes in bed just to cover all bases before anything actually happened, and unsurprisingly a lot of your kinks lined up with minho’s perfectly. “just say the word, angel, and you know i’ll give you anything you want.”

he knew that when you were tired and needy, you almost lost the capacity to think for yourself, and that you were more than willing to submit yourself fully to him and let him do all the thinking for you. he was more than happy to indulge you like that, but he needed to be sure you were in the correct headspace to consent - especially as it would be your first time together doing more than heatedly making out or going down on one another.

he lead you gently into the apartment, kneeling down to help you rid yourself of your shoes and your jacket before pulling you into a warm hug. you both swayed gently in the entryway, your brain firing at almost 100 miles a second, hands grasping onto your boyfriend’s skin wherever they could reach.

“please, min. just wanna be good for you, want you to make me feel good.”

your words were all he needed to pull you into a searing kiss, guiding your hands to rest on his hips while his wandered upwards to cup your cheeks. without breaking the kiss - he had the layout of the apartment mapped in his head - he carefully guided you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed once you were both inside.

his tongue pressed on your lower lip, demanding dominance before you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to massage yours in the nicest way possible. all the while, his hands were nimbly working on your shirt buttons, popping them open with ease before he slipped the sleeves down your arms and discarded the item behind him.

left clad in just your cycling shorts and bra, all of your senses seemed heightened, and you whined pathetically as the material of minho’s shirt rubbed against your bare skin.

“what’s wrong, hmm?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours to mumble out the words. you whimpered and tugged at the hem of his shirt, which made him chuckle. “use your words, baby, or i can;t give you what you want.”

“shirt, min,” you whimpered, eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from the kiss and looked up at him with doe eyes. “off.”

yet another chuckle left his lips, and he pushed you back gently until you fell on the bed, reaching up to rid himself of his shirt.

“why don’t you take those shorts off for me, love. wanna see if those pretty panties you’re hiding look as good as that bra, yeah?”

he was so condescending in the best way, and it lit a spark in your core. your body seemed to be working on its own as you peeled your shorts off and laid out on the bed to show yourself off to him. this seemed to please him as he grinned and removed his jeans, crawling onto the bed and resting above you using his arms for support.

“you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” when you whined again, he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand and a glint in his eye. “stop stressing your pretty head, baby. i’m gonna take care of you - just wanna look at you first.”

it was something he enjoyed, just looking at you. admiring you, if you will. knowing you were all for him, so pliant and willing to do anything asked before he could ever finish a sentence. it was a power trip, for sure, knowing you trusted him enough to have complete control over you like this, and he loved every second.

seeing how you squirmed under him, under his stare, had his throbbing in his boxers and he couldn’t wait to ravish you. the flush on your cheeks, spreading down your chest and across your ears. he’d never seen anything more beautiful, and he couldn’t wait a second longer to show you that.

he shushed your whines with a gentle kiss to your lips, reaching down to hook your leg over his hip.

“hush now, pretty girl. i’ll take care of you. let that pretty brain go blank, and let me do all the thinking and work for you, yeah?”

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @skz-streamer @hyunjiins @backintomykpopphaseagain @demetrisscarf

[golvio]

Still thinking about the stark contrast between the general grim, highly-restrained stoicism of TotK Ganondorf’s human form compared to the exaggerated, rapidly shifting moods of “Yippee! :D Whee!! :DD Wahoo!!! :DDD *does a cute little backflip*” and “YOU STOP RUINING MY FUN RIGHT NOW OR I WILL THROW A BIG DIVO TEMPER TANTRUM AND WRECK EVERYTHING!” of his Demon King form.

Guy’s pretty obviously repressed as hell, and I think that’s one of the reasons he always goes off the rails the second he gets a chance to step out of his ceremonial One Special Man role. However, the fact that what he’s repressing feels so…childish, even the violent parts…I’m wondering if the guy ever got the chance to be a child when he was actually little.

Maybe he got yelled at and punished for making simple inexperienced baby mistakes the way Zelda was because he was under similar pressure to Fix Everything and symbolically parent all his adult subjects/family members as a Symbol of Hope that could soothe their fears and anxieties on-demand. (Not to mention Buliara’s mom raised a bit of a red flag about authoritarian parenting styles being common in Gerudo military families). Only instead of just suppressing everything and standing perfectly still and quiet in public while floundering in private like Zelda did, he got extremely skilled at convincing the people around him he was the mature, unflappable, strong, comforting, and eternally available collective cultural father-figure who’d guide them out of the hard times they were trying to hammer him into.

Only…that wasn’t real personal development, only the illusion of development. He encased his true personality in the superficial shell of the sexy manly-man hero that everyone wanted him to be. The second he was able to emerge from that shell without anyone being able to punish him for it, that inner traumatized little jerk immediately started lashing out in revenge at the people who held him to such an impossible standard in an effort to finally feel in control of his own life. It’s like a former child star melting down upon entering adulthood after being denied agency and independence by the studio they’re contracted with and their financially profiting family for so long, only with magic and the forsaking of one’s own humanity involved.

That underlying theme of metamorphosis throughout the game, echoed in Kotlin’s “dream,” could’ve been capitalized on here. The people loved the shiny gold cocoon the weak, helpless larva formed, begging it to never emerge so they could enjoy its beauty forever. But he knows, he knows that if he never breaks open the shell encasing him, he’ll die before he ever gets the chance to unfurl his wings. The form they love is incomplete, shallow, temporary. He’ll die if he can’t discard it. He would rather be alive and horrible to behold than dead and perfect. The people will hate what emerges from their jewel, but in this new shape he can sting and bite back, so let them hate him.

But, also, just…could you imagine if we had a chance to meet The Cocoon and the people who worshipped it, saying how much they love their king while knowing absolutely nothing about him, only to find out he had his own “secret sanctuary” much like Zelda did? Somewhere we could glimpse the soft, hungry insect of his soul that yearned to break free? What we’d see in the pieces of his secret joys scattered around and the scratches of his notes would be something ugly, bitter, childishly self-centered, yes. But in there would also be real passion, real feeling, a real life desperate to finally live that would make the handsome shell brandishing a sword feel hollow, uncanny, and downright off-putting by comparison.

[agbob-dollpants]

💓 Meet Velvet! 💓

If you’ve seen my post on here about picking out dolls in person, I can’t do that anymore! My local AG Place closed in February, and I’m genuinely still in disbelief. However, this girl embodies all of the wonderful memories I have made there, as I purchased her on my last trip there on February 16. ❤️

Velvet is a truly me 118, who was never really on my radar when she was first released, but something inside me decided I absolutely NEEDED this doll after seeing a million photos of her on AGIG! When picking out my second to last doll at AGP Columbus, though, I chose truly me 120 instead. Sometimes I’m so mad at myself because, when I picked her out, she didn’t have that awful little star on the bottom of her foot, but there was also one 118 in the store who did not. When I went to pick out Velvet, tons of 120’s were in the store without a star foot, but EVERY 118 had one! It was a nightmare to pick Velvet out, but her sweet face just spoke to me and I bought her anyways! 🌟

One thing I really love to do with my dolls is create stop motion videos for my AGTube channel, AGBob DollPants. For those videos, I have to fashion personalities for my dolls, which usually persist with unusual, outlandish personality traits that create a lot of chaos. However, making a more relatable personality for Velvet has really helped me bond with her! 💓

As I tried to come up with ways to “make up for” her star foot, I landed on the idea that the star is her “scar” from being the last doll to “step foot” into the AGP. Then, I came up with the most BRILLIANT idea! She would be an AGIGer and AGTuber like me! 🌟

In my “doll lore,” Velvet’s presence on AGIG has become even more relatable to me, as I’ve created a story for her that involves similar events to my own experience in high school. At the age of 17, Velvet is a senior in high school, and she still absolutely adores her AG dolls. Navigating her upcoming adulthood, she has to deal with her adult friends growing out of dolls, trying to hide her AGIG from people at school, and the closure of her local AG Place.

At least she has her stories, though. Velvet has loved to write stories about her dolls since she was eight years old. Though I do not have a mini doll to represent him, her stories mostly revolve around Fletcher Rae—a customized Kaya mold boy doll with curly black hair and freckles who was created from a mangled Kaya doll that she “found at a yard sale.” Fletcher, as well as every other doll in Velvet’s collection, attends a school of magic in their 400 page novels! So far, Velvet has created six books about Fletcher in the style of the AG historical books, such as “Meet Fletcher” and “Fletcher Saves the Day,” but filled to the brim with action, suspense, and TONS of lore! ✨

Nobody at Velvet’s school knows that these stories are really about a massive collection of American Girl dolls, though—except for her best friend (who is still to be determined, she will be one of my existing dolls!) As much as she would love to share her doll collection with the world, only the closest people in her life know about her passion for these dolls. Similarly to my own life, Velvet feels like she’s hiding a huge part of her personality to others when she first meets them—almost appearing “personality-less” without her dolls. However, with thousands of followers on AGIG, Velvet realizes how amazing her dolls truly are, as so many people admire her photography skills and love for the American Girl brand! 💓

I absolutely love taking photos of Velvet as if she was a real AGIGer. The photo above showcases her dolls falling over during a photo shoot…I’m sure we’ve all been there! I just adore having a doll who doesn’t look like me, but embodies a similar personality. With Velvet as an AGIGer, I am able to feel more seen as an adult with a passion for AG, even though I created her character myself. Even though Z Yang was a 13 year old girl who adored AGTube (who I own in my collection), something about carefully crafting everything about Velvet’s character makes her so much more special! ❤️

After deciding her personality, and considering the fact that she was my last doll from AGP Columbus, Velvet quickly became my favorite doll of ALL TIME! Though I have had other “comfort dolls” in the past, there is just something about this girl that rises above all the others. To be honest, I don’t even know what I was doing without her! 🌟

Every single day since I first purchased this doll, she has not left my sight. Of course, she always has to have a mini doll with her, so a lot of mini dolls have also been invading my bedroom. Having Velvet around has even inspired me to take the photo above at a public library! It’s been a long time since I took photos in a public facility that was not outdoors, so her love for AGIG has made me more confident in that respect! ❤️

Once you find a doll that you really bond with, they will be your best friend forever! I’m shocked, yet not surprised, that I did not feel this way for my first two dolls that I got all the way back in 2012, but for a doll that I actually purchased as an adult. I like to think that I’ve just accumulated more appreciation for my dolls with time! ✨

Even though my beloved AGP closed, I am beyond thrilled to have the most PERFECT 118 in my collection. It sounds a bit silly, but Velvet means the absolute world to me, and I am so glad to have such a connection with one of my dolls! 💓

[nastyavolk-cp]

The Angel of Hades I

Tagging: @aphroditelovesu @the-broken-truth General warnings: Yandere themes (next part), platonic love, kidnapping, themes about autism and ADHD, mental health discussion, etc. Notes: Bianca and her mother are my OCs, do not use them without consulting me. Everyone else belongs to Rick Riordan and belongs to the Percy Jackson universe. Good reading, welcome to the part one!

“You are a demigod, Bianca.”

The young girl swore she had heard something similar in the past, more specifically the phrase 'You're a wizard, Harry.' When she had a phase of liking Harry Potter and witchcraft, in her defense she was a child who had just found herself. in a fandom she liked. But now she was over 17 years old, one step away from reaching the age of majority, she finished high school and was already listing all the public universities in Curitiba, her hometown where she currently lives with her mother and relatives, to take the entrance exam to college.

This news, however, was one of the most unexpected things she had ever heard, but it did not appear, at least in her mind, as something impossible. Since she was a child, she has seen some very unlikely things and has experienced situations in which she thought impossible to happen, but which unfortunately were very real, she believed it was because of her diagnosis of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder that she received. aged seven, in addition to his confirmed Autism Spectrum Disorder, which was diagnosed months after ADHD.

But at that moment, she was facing a fucking satyr, or faun? This didn't matter to her at the time, because the moment he had said what she really was, with her mother present, Bianca had her doubts.

“A demigoddess? Like, daughter of some god?” She asked just to make sure that was what he was talking about, as obvious as it was, and the creature nodded, confirming her suspicions. “Whose then?” The young woman continued, her pale hands trembling slightly, her right leg swayed in a discreet way but which made the satyr and her own mother a little nervous, who looked at her with a look of compassion.

“I’m not sure, you’ll only find out once you’re at Camp Half Blood.” The creature explained before taking a sip of the fresh cup of coffee that her mother, Isabel, had prepared for this visit.

“Camp Half-Blood? What is this place?” Bianca asked, leaning a little towards the coffee table, her hazel eyes showed curiosity but also slight fear, did she really have to go to this place?

“It's a camp, obviously, dedicated to training demigods, just like you, from all over the world. This specific Camp is dedicated to the direct descendants of Greek gods, I don’t know if you’re already familiar with━”

“Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Eros, Aphrodite, Had━”

“Yes, yes, those same ones. I can already see that you are already familiar with this matter.” The satyr comically interrupted the young woman listing all the Greek gods that came into her head, extending his hand and making a stop sign right in the young woman's face.

Bianca quickly returned to her original posture, she seemed more tense than before, she didn't know exactly what to do with these feelings, she felt like her chest was about to explode, or maybe she was close to having a heart attack, either way, she didn't seem to be taking this news very well.

“Do I... have to go to this place, where is it?” She asked nervously, seeing her mother looking worried, who immediately went to sit next to her daughter to try to calm her down and prevent a possible panic attack.

“It is in the state of New York, in the United States of America.” The satyr replied, drinking the last sip of the cup of coffee and placing it carefully on the coffee table. “It is rare that we find demigods who are already reaching adulthood, we usually get demigods who are entering adolescence. Maybe because you live here in Brazil it made our search for you a little more difficult. A few years ago we found a demigod just like you, but younger, who was from Rio de Janeiro. Maybe you two can get along.”

"No! I do not want to go!" Bianca said sounding a little too desperate, surprising the satyr and Isabel with her tone of voice, the latter immediately tried to comfort her.

“I don’t think that’s an option, young lady. When a demigod is discovered, heit needs immediately go there. It’s protocol and this serves to increase your chances of survival.” The satyr explained but the young woman shook her head.

“What part don’t you understand that I don’t want to go to?!”

“But sweetheart, you will be safe there, you will meet people like you, you will make friends there━”

“I don’t want to go!” The girl interrupted her mother, with tears already forming in her eyes, she couldn't stop acting like a child who refuses to go to school, but in her defense she was being forced to go to a place she didn't know, mixing with people she didn't know and the worst part of it all was that she wouldn't have any relatives or family there. How the hell is she going to stay in a camp in a different country and how is she going to get back to Brazil? Furthermore, she had everything prepared so that she could enter a public university in her city, wanting to study Arts or History, her plans could not be snatched away from her like that.

“Bianca please-” Her mother was startled when the young woman got up from the sofa and walked away, with Isabel desperately going after her worried daughter, at the same time apologizing to the satyr and asking him to wait in the living room, but the girl as soon as she arrived in her bedroom, she closed the door and locked it before her mother could reach the handle and try to open the door, the latter had no success.

As her mother insistently called her, Bianca threw herself on her bed and began to cry into the pillows, when everything seemed to be stabilizing and her life was getting back on track, a fucking satyr came and ruined everything and told her the whole truth, in addition to wanting to force her to go on this camp without respecting the decisions she wanted to make for the life that was hers.

The young woman didn't know how long she cried, ignoring her mother calling her, who eventually gave up when she saw that she wouldn't have any response and that the whole situation had upset her, but at the end of it all, after feeling her eyes pulsing and swollen , her face burning and a throbbing headache, Bianca fell asleep out of the blue, she would undoubtedly wake up feeling bad afterwards but that didn't bother her as she could finally have an escape in her dreams.

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Not long after she woke up, she felt really bad, the headache was worse and her eyes hurt a lot, she rubbed her face against the pillow that had previously been used to dry her tears, which were not few. She moved her arms a little until in her hands she felt the softness and fur of a stuffed animal, she turned to the side and saw that it was her plush of Tigger, a character from Winnie the Pooh, one of her favorite childhood cartoons and since she was little she was attached to him, taking him anywhere, no matter where.

Then Bianca took her old stuffed animal and pulled it towards her, hugging it tightly and rubbing her freckled face against it. This immediately improved her mood. She felt calmer, lighter, but when she remembered what had happened previously, She felt shame invade her and her first thought was…

“Ah… my mother must be upset with me…” She said, vocalizing her thoughts. Bianca was very disappointed with herself, he must have embarrassed her mother in front of that satyr, or faun…?

At the same moment, she heard someone knocking on her bedroom door, she already knew who it was because of the rhythm and tone of the knocks, it was her mother. She got up from the bed, still holding the Tigger plushie, and went to her bedroom door, she turned the key and immediately opened the door.

Isabel stood before her, with a guilty look, and in her hands she held a gourd with the already prepared chimarrão. Upon seeing her daughter's swollen eyes, the older woman sighed, feeling even more guilty about what happened.

“Mama… I’m sorry…” Bianca began, her voice was a little hoarse, her mother looked surprised but it was nothing unpredictable, her daughter apologized for many things even if she wasn’t at fault.or causing any problem.

“Honey, this isn’t your fault. I know you were upset because you… well… had other plans and no one expected that…” Isabel began and entered her daughter's room, the two then sat on the bed, the older woman handed the chimarrão to her daughter, and she took it. and drank some of it through a straw, it was bitter but at the same time it relieved the tension in her body, now allowing her to relax again.

“He told me that you really need to go to this camp, that it would be for your own safety and that you will be prepared to defend yourself from monsters. I swear, my dear, that whatever these monsters are, I know you will be more than capable of protecting yourself. I believe in you, my love. Everything will be fine."

Everything will be fine…

“How long… how long do I need to stay there…?” Bianca asked before taking a few more sips of mate.

“3 months, it would be like spending the whole summer there.” Her mother explained, this worried the girl a little because in the northern hemisphere summer would be June, July and August, and if she entered a university, she would only have a single month of full vacation which in this case would only be July. Hmm..

“And would it be that if I went to college I would only need to stay there for a month?” It was a valid question, after all she didn't want to give up going to college, and it was already the beginning of July, she spent half the semester studying so she could take the entrance exams for public universities in her state.

“You can try to negotiate.” Isabel said, encouraging her. Bianca felt more relieved, of course she was still very insecure, as this was something that came up suddenly, but with her mother's unconditional support, she could begin this journey as a demigod daughter of whoever.

"I love you my love. Mama is here, always.” Isabel said, kissing her daughter's forehead, she was one of the only people who could do that to Bianca, since she didn't really like physical touch and affection in that way, but her mother was the exception, as she was her daughter. greatest comfort person, your companion and even partner in crime.

Bianca felt scared, as it was normal for everyone to feel scared, but if she was to actually go there, she could finally answer the questions she had been asking her entire life.

Starting with the fact that she saw ghosts, but it was probably something that anyone could see, right?

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️ 

She had a few hours to prepare for that day, her mother had said the same day the satyr was at her house that he would show up the next day to take her to Camp Half Blood via teleportation. Yes, Bianca really thought she was living in a fiction book just like Harry Potter, but obviously all of this was different for several, many reasons.

Her mother helped her separate her clothes into a large gym bag as well as some personal hygiene items, makeup (at her own insistence), her medicines and even some drawing materials if they had free time and she didn't die of boredom. In the end, she was ready, at least physically, emotionally she couldn't unfortunately say the same.

Now it was her time to go, after having breakfast, taking a shower and getting ready, she knew that the satyr would be there waiting for her, her mother, in a way of bringing comfort to her daughter, had prepared soup for her to eat in a thermos cup, it was one of her comfort foods and safe for her to eat, since she preferred creamy foods with a soft texture as they were what pleases her sensitive palate. Before going to the satyr who waited before them, Isabel hugged her daughter, feeling that this would be the last time she would see her and who knows, after three months she would return to her arms again.

“Are you ready for us to go, miss Bianca?” The satyr asked, as much as the young woman wanted to say no, she lightly bit her lip and nodded yes. In one of the creature's hands there were two small shiny spheres, the size and shape of a marble. Bianca took this marble while the satyr explained that these pearls were used to teleport them wherever they wanted to go.

“Close your eyes, miss. Allow me to guide us to Camp Half-Blood.” Bianca sighed and closed her eyes, he instructed that on three, they would throw the pearls on the floor while holding their hands free. When the count was over, the two threw the pearls on the floor and the young girl felt a sensation like butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but she didn't dare open her eyes.

“Miss, we are here.” The satyr said in a gentle voice, still holding the hand of the teenager who slowly opened her eyes, which little by little became accustomed to the natural luminosity of the Sun and hearing birds singing in the distance, sounds that looked like laughter, screams and moans. “Welcome to Camp Half Blood, miss━”

“Bianca… please. Call me Bianca.” The girl responded by letting go of the satyr's hand and letting out a deep sigh, relieved to be able to breathe fresh air and release all the tension that existed in her body and soul. She looked at the entrance to the camp, there was a text in ancient Greek but she couldn't understand what it was, then suddenly she heard the sounds of horse footsteps and in front of her was a large centaur, but it wasn't just any centaur.

“Good morning, Miss. Santos or Miss. Alves?” Chiron he said, probably lost because she had two last names and wasn't sure which one she would feel comfortable being called.

“Alves, you may call me Bianca Alves.” The girl replied in English, it wasn't the best and had her paranaense accent, and without looking the centaur in the eye, who dismissed this flawed presentation and extended his hand to her. Still without making eye contact, she shook his hand but quickly let go, not wanting to prolong this physical contact.

“Understood, Miss. Bianca Alves. Welcome to Camp Half Blood, I believe you have already received a brief explanation about our camp and the purpose for which it was created.” After a brief pause,Chiron continued. “We are happy to have you here, how did you manage to stay out of our sights? And monsters too, I suppose?”

“I don’t know… until yesterday I didn’t know I was a demigod in the first place.” Bianca responded by scratching her neck, which was true, the information that she was a demigoddess came very quickly and she still didn't know how to handle this news well.

“Usually we welcome and find demigods a little younger than you, you must be around 17 years old, we find demigods who are 10 to 12 years old, younger than those ages, it’s not difficult, but older demigods? They are a rarity here, as many… do not survive to adulthood.” The centaur explained and the last part scared the young woman, Chiron immediately realizes that his words may have frightened her and changes his approach so as not to prolong her despair any longer. “However, miss. I believe it must be because you probably haven't manifested your powers yet. Tell me, have you never noticed anything ‘abnormal’ in your life?”

“Well, I believe that something that is out of the ordinary is the fact that I see ghosts, but I think it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.” She replied, she didn't want to go into details about her autism and ADHD, if no one asked, she wouldn't need to talk, for now.

Then the centaur invites the girl to go with him, she follows him while he gives a brief explanation about how the camp worked, the daily activities, about the cabins, basically saying what was necessary and of course clearing up any doubts the girl had along the way. He also responded how she could contact her mother whenever she wanted, preferably during her spare time, and that if she joined a public college in her country of origin, he could make an exception for her to attend the camp in a single month, despite showing his concern about how little time she will stay compared to the other campers, but education comes first so it wasn't difficult to convince him.

He also explained that, as she has not yet been acclaimed by her divine relative, she will stay in the Hermes Cabin, along with the children of the god Hermes and some other campers who were not acclaimed yet. But there was a moment when as she looked at the cabins, she felt the centaur's gaze on her, narrowing his eyes at something.

"Is there any problem…?" She asked, a little embarrassed and the centaur quickly realized that he made her uncomfortable.

“Ah, my apologies, Ms. Alves, now having a good look I swore I had seen you before, but I don't think so, you must just look like someone I must have known a long time ago.” Chiron explained but the subject died once and for all, as Bianca didn't want to ask anything about it. They immediately walked around the camp again, with some campers looking at them and the Brazilian girl becoming even more uncomfortable with all this unwanted attention, she used her black hair to hide her face more from anyone who saw her from afar.

She started playing with her rings, it was one of the ways she used to calm herself, to relax her body and release any unpleasant emotions from her, while she listened to what Chiron was saying, she continued to look at every corner of the camp, not believing that this was her life now. There were many sensations and feelings at the same time and she continued to play even more with the rings on her fingers, trying to remain calm.

“Miss Alves, are you okay?” The centaur asked, noticing that the young woman was tense, he had already noticed something the moment he met her, the two stopped in front of the cafeteria, and Bianca didn't know how to answer that question. “Do you have something you would like to tell me? No need to be afraid, I’d like to help you fit in and get involved here.” He said reassuringly, his voice gentle and concerned.

“It's just… I don't know if there will be others like me… I'm autistic, sir. And… I don't know if I'll get along like everyone else here…” She explained, without still looking at him, the centaur contemplated the girl's words. He was thoughtful about her concerns, but in the end he was satisfied that she had told him the truth and opened the game so he could help her.

"Ms. Alves, I'm very relieved that you told me this, besides autism, do you have any comorbidities?”

“ADHD.”

“Hm, I figured. Do you take any medication or psychological treatment?”

“I do both, I take medication for ADHD.”

“Interestingly, no demigod here is taking or has had treatment with medication or even psychological support, you are a rarity, but of course that doesn't mean it's something bad and that it excludes you from others, in reality I believe it will be the opposite, I would like to know how it will handle your training and on missions if you are called upon. I want you to know that I am willing to do my best to help and support you on your journey at this camp, you can come to me and I will give you my support when you need it. But everything in its time, in no way do I want to pressure you or speed you up.”

"… Thank you very much. I mean it." She said, feeling embarrassed, but Chiron's words managed to reassure her enough, now she was less tense and they were able to continue walking around the camp. In the meantime, she met some campers and finally, when Chiron needed to take care of some matters about the camp, he left Bianca with Ares' children, where Clarisse La Rue took her in and was willing to be her trainer to teach her, for now, simple combat skills.

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Hours had passed, Bianca had already settled in the Hermes Cabin and met some of his children, although she was still not comfortable, she had started well with Clarisse, the daughter of Ares, even though she seemed brutal and bloodthirsty, she was patient and welcomed her quickly at the speed of light. Bianca felt grateful for having achieved a new friendship, even quickly for her standards, as this rarely happened to her.

It was then that one of Ares's children ended up getting injured and someone ran to call one of Apollo's children who worked as healers. A few minutes later a blond boy a little younger than her appeared with a first aid kit. He didn't take long to tend to the son of Ares' injuries and at the same time scolded him to be more cautious in the next fight.

“I don’t want to see you hurt again today, capiche?” The blonde said and when he got up he immediately looked at Bianca, a little surprised to see someone he had never seen in his life, but he opened a huge warm smile when he realized that she was a new camper. “Oh, hello! You must be the new camper that arrived today, right? What’s your name and where are you from?”

“A-Are talking with me?" The Brazilian girl asked, surprised and embarrassed, pointing to herself and when Apolo's son approached, she was embarrassed and couldn't look him in the eye.

"Yes, I am!" The blonde stated, waiting for an answer and left his hand extended to shake her.

“I'm Bianca Alves, actually Bianca Heloísa Alves dos Santos, but you can just call me Bianca Alves. And I’m from Curitiba, Brazil.” She said, feeling ashamed at having made this shabby introduction, but still reluctant to shake his hand. Upon realizing this, Apollo's son lowered his hand seeing that she wasn't going to do it but didn't seem offended by her apathetic gesture.

“I'm William Andrew Solace, but everyone here knows me as Will Solace, son of Apollo! I hope we get along well, Bia!” Will said happily, Bianca expressed surprise at having already gained a nickname in a matter of seconds of interacting with Apollo's son.

“Ehh.. me too, I guess…” She replied, putting her hands in the pocket of her coat, she felt very embarrassed. It was getting close to dark and someone had mentioned Capture the Flag, a common activity in this camp. She was hesitant because she didn't know if she would be successful in this game or if she would end up experiencing some kind of humiliation or embarrassment, either by others or by herself. fault.

The Brazilian girl felt Will was still watching her, she had the feeling that he was analyzing her and that made her even more awkward, but Will quickly decided to leave saying that his obligations called him and that he had to prepare for the Capture the Flag.

“I hope I don’t fuck anything up.” Bianca thought, sighing deeply and deciding to follow Clarisse so as not to miss one of the only familiar faces. But little did she know that someone, from far, far away, was closely watching her and her movements.

☠☠️☠️☠️☠️

Bianca can definitely say that she hates the Capture the Flag, she obviously stayed on the Ares children's team and Clarisse put her in a hunting position, the part of facing rivals was up to her, as leader, and the others. However, at a certain point when Bianca was distracted by some noises, she lost her team.

She felt panic but tried as much as she could to calm down, not wanting to destabilize herself in this way, but that proved impossible, the desire she had to sit on the dirt floor and remain silent, dealing with her panic attack alone as he often dealt with when he was younger. However, she needed courage and to move forward, of course the feeling of guilt also bothered her, as she only had one job and she was already capable of failing miserably.

But patience, that was all she needed, one time or another she would meet other people, whether they were on her team or not, but the darkness of the forest didn't really help her get around or get to where she was, she tried to guide herself through of the sounds but seeing that she was basically lost, she reconsidered actually sitting down and crying, waiting for someone to find her and later being seen as cowardly and scared.

So after walking so, so much, and not finding herself anywhere, just in front of a stream but still without finding anyone, she sat down near a tree and started crying, how was she really able to get lost like that? Bianca knew that this was not a grown-up attitude, that she should be more resilient and courageous, but it was impossible to contain herself like that.

One sound, however, caught her attention, she heard it as if it were several people celebrating from afar, is the game over? For how long was she lost? Did her team win? When she got up to finally go find her colleagues, something appeared from the shadows and appeared before her. It was a huge dog and had black fur with scarlet red eyes, thirsty for blood.

A hellhound.

Bianca stood frozen, watching in terror at the creature before her, ready to make mincemeat of her, growling loudly at her, then the creature waited for her to make a sudden movement to attack it and at the height of her panic, Bianca walked back, stepping on a branch and breaking it, opening the gap for the creature to attack ferociously.

She let out a cold and dark scream, but she was quick enough to avoid the hellhound, being narrowly caught by him, but Bianca fell to the ground and she wouldn't have time to get up and run away, it would be useless, she continued to scream. desperate, an attempt to get someone's attention but she had no hope.

This was definitely the end, it was almost pathetic, die on your first day.

But when the creature got dangerously close to her, ready to attack her, with Bianca still screaming and hearing sounds of people getting close, something hit the great hellhound and the earth beneath her shook, she couldn't see what was really happening, but the hellhound moaned and made sounds of pain, as if something was hitting him from behind and finally, the creature couldn't resist and fell to the ground, revealing its back pierced by sword blows and a bunch of skeletons holding swords.

Bianca was paralyzed once again.

The skeletons looked at her with their non-existent eyes, they were wearing gladiators' uniform and had shiny bronze swords in their hands, there were three of them and one of the group walked over the dead hellhound and walked towards her, she managed to recover her movements but was left with her back pressed against the tree, thinking that perhaps her destiny was to die.

To her surprise, the skeleton raised his bony hand and gently patted her head, as if she were a scared puppy, and she felt as if he was trying to comfort her from her fright, she thought he had even said 'It's okay. It's okay, my lady.' The footsteps became more audible and the voices called her name, suddenly a light took over the ambience, the glow came from the top of her head.

When the light dimmed and many of her campmates arrived, she saw that a figure was forming in the middle of that glow, it was a bident, Bianca could see the shock on the faces of everyone who was with her, the skeletons took off their helmets and knelt down before her, which left her even more confused but it didn't take long for Chiron, who was in front of her, to take action.

“Everyone hail to Bianca Heloísa Alves dos Santos, daughter of Lord Hades, the Unseen, God of the Underworld, Riches and the Dead.” With that, everyone without exception hailed before Bianca, who couldn't handle all the pressure towards her and lost consciousness quickly.

She is Daughter of Hades...

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For Nico di Angelo, it was just another normal day, he could easily sum up his day as staying at his cabin, spending time with Will and some friends, as well as sending Iris Messages to Hazel, Reyna, Jason and Frank at Camp Jupiter. However, he knew, through some campers, that there was a new girl wandering around, but he didn't pay any attention to it, after all, it was just another one.

How wrong he was.

A whole day had passed, after having spent hours talking with his Roman friends, he left his cabin and went to meet Will, who he had heard was in the arena area to take care of a neglected son of Ares. However, when he entered, but still hidden through the shadows, he saw his blonde boyfriend talking to a girl, but he couldn't see her face well.

“... I hope we get along well, Bia!” The son of Hades only managed to capture this phrase coming from his boyfriend and he froze when he heard the nickname, Bia was the way he affectionately called his older sister Bianca, who had died so long ago and who he missed every day. Curious, but slightly afraid, Nico came out of the shadows a little while still remaining hidden so he could closely observe the girl with whom Will was trying to have a decently animated dialogue.

Now a little closer, Nico could see some more features of this girl, although he couldn't see her face, it was scary how similar she was to his sister, she had straight black hair that went past her shoulders, she wore a wide brown flannel coat, a long ankle-length skirt with several cutouts of distinct dark prints and black sneakers. Nico wanted to tell himself that this was just in his head, there was no way the girl could be his sister, as she was obviously dead.

But when her boyfriend walked away from her he could see a part of her face, even though she couldn't see him, he froze. Identical. Almost an accurate reflection of her sister, except that she looked much older, perhaps around 17 years old, the same age Bianca would be if she were alive, had paler complaxion, quite similar to his, her freckles were subtle and she had a languid, delicate form.

"My love!" Will said, appearing next to his boyfriend, Nico almost jumped and looked at the blonde with his black eyes looking at him seriously, he didn't really like being surprised but as he was his partner, he ignored it most of the time. They greet each other with a quick peck but even with that, Nico couldn't stop seeing the girl in his mind and how frighteningly similar she was to Bianca.

“Will, who was the girl you were talking to just now?” Nico asked, wanting to quell his curiosity, maybe it was all in his head, maybe just a freak out he was having.

“Ah, it’s Bianca, she’s the new camper who came from Brazil.”

Nico froze once again, he hadn't heard it wrong, the girl's name was Bianca, it wasn't possible that fate was playing a sick joke on him, as if the fact that he had lost his older sister several years ago, suddenly, wasn't enough. Just because he got over it, a girl came along who looked extremely similar to her and had the SAME NAME AS HER.

He was just a few steps away from having a mental breakdown and Will quickly realized that his boyfriend was acting strange, but decided not to ask at the moment, considering it might make the son of Hades more uncomfortable than he already was. The blonde took his boyfriend's hand and decided to take him to the infirmary to spend time together, but he wouldn't forget the strange way his boyfriend had reacted when he found out about the new camper.

Hours later, everyone was playing Capture the Flag, after some time, the game had ended, resulting in the victory of the team led by Athena's children, but Ares' children showed concern not because they had lost the competition but because they noticed the absence of a person and just when they began to question themselves, screams were heard from not far away, many ran to help the missing camper who was in obvious danger.

Nico went with the crowd with his boyfriend Will and some friends, following the sound of the camper's screams, but as soon as they arrived at the scene, they came across an unusual scene. A dead hellhound was on the floor, with a bunch of skeletons wearing gladiator clothes with swords in their hands and one was patting the new girl, Bianca, on the head.

Then, with a touch of magic, a bright source of light appeared on her head, which gradually revealed itself to be the sign that she had been acclaimed, and she was the daughter of none other than Hades himself.

“Everyone hail to Bianca Heloísa Alves dos Santos, daughter of Lord Hades, the Unseen, God of the Underworld, Riches and the Dead.” Chiron spoke and everyone with no exception hailed to her, but due to the shock and fright Bianca fainted. Clarisse was in charge of taking her to the infirmary where she would be taken care of and they would carry out general examinations to locate possible serious injuries.

When Clarisse passed by his side, Nico couldn't help but look once again at the passed out girl, her unconscious face was really and inevitably identical with his long deceased sister.

Who was she? What did Fates have in store for them? Why is she identical to his sister and why the same name? Was it really all coincidence or was it the work of the Fates, ready to fuck with Nico di Angelo's life again?

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Oh my God, guys. Finally I did it, it took me whole weeks to write it, I know my writing skills aren't refined and English obviously isn't my first language, but I want to thank everyone for reading the first part of Angel of Hades, I'm so excited to write the next part, I promise it will be way more interesting than this part, since it's only an introduction!

And yeah, Isabelle Fuhrman is Bianca's face claim, keep that in mind, hehehe ❤️

Edit: Oh God, how embarrassing. I corrected some writing mistakes I just noticed now 😡😡