#it's like watching a terrible accident in slow motion

[beatrizamante]

_Shooting Star

Lara is still frozen in front of her ajar apartment door, mouth slightly agape. The passing night breeze slits through her nightwear since she didn’t bother to change into something presentable. No one was expected tonight and the gang isn't used to seeing her in short tank tops and hot pants, so as long as it isn't the gang, it’s alright. The cold winds seem to caress her naked skin, but for some reason, none of that chill seeps in. 

No, her eyes are locked in certain burnt umber ones. She was too concentrated when the bell rang, still calculating equations when she climbed down her just inherited new apartment, trying to find a path through the mess. Many things were bought, hanged and taken care of, but the place was still chaotic, especially because she was also transforming her old Pa’s apartment into a study for astronomy and physics. Well, as much as she could without having government funding and just enough that was still cozy to live in. 

The scientist, though, was not expecting a visitor. A Mal visitor. And he does not look happy. 

He still wears his diner apron, the red fabric billowing with the wind, but he’s sporting his biker pants and sleeveless gray shirt. It is a weird combination and the fact that he’s holding a delivery bag while looking at her like that makes all those times she felt weird so much more meaningful. His brunette hair is disheveled, probably from taking off his helmet in a hurry. And he had this look… Jaw set in a way that Lara could bet that, in the correct lightning, that prominent scar would show. There was no customer veneer to him today, nor the charisma he would usually sport when talking to her. 

There was only an… intensity. His brows were furrowed and mouth set in a dangerous grin. She couldn’t read exactly anger, but maybe frustration? Oh, frustration! The taunt lines of his body exuded that. It wasn’t dangerous, just… very intense. 

Did she do something? 

Think, Lara, think! 

Oh… Well, she did… avoid?... The diner… for two days.

Hey! Lara needed to think, ok? A lot of things were happening and Fernweh was loading a whole set of problems onto her. Especially these… feelings. HOW DOES ONE DEAL WITH IT? The doctor has to think. Sit with these thoughts and really think about them. 

But that couldn’t make Mal this mad, could it? It was only two days.

I have no intention of letting you go. 

Hm, maybe it could. 

Welp, at least they could talk!... She hopes?   

“Mal…”, her voice is very soft with wonder, unintentionally cutting him when he’s about to speak. The bag crinkles at his closed first, blood seeping from his fingers as the skin turns pale. Lara can almost hear his teeth grinding against his skull. Ops. “... Sorry. I didn’t ask for any deliv- I mean! I’m happy to see you, I’m just confused? Can we talk… privately? I think I left my card upstairs. ”, her face flushes, her pulse spikes so much that she worries if a heart attack is on the way. He must find something in her expression that makes him soften. She’s trying to give him an excuse to get upstairs to a private conversation. There’s no hesitation when the waiter steps forward. He’s done waiting. No excuses tonight.

“The delivery was already paid on your behalf, Charmer. Looks like your sweetest friend was worried that you vanished from the world of the living.”, he shadows her steps and, as Lara looks over her shoulder, shivers welcome her. “But I can take these up for you. After all, you’re not very good at holding onto things.”

Lara cocks her head his way, raising her brows. He’s repeating what he told her at the lake, that fateful night. Her waiter loves to recall his own sentences, doesn’t he? She chuckles slightly at that. It was a good one, after all. Lara can feel her marked left hand warm up even without his touch. She wonders what kind of magic he suffused in it, connecting them. 

The door behind them is closed with a click of finality, but her mind couldn’t be giving less fucks about that.

“Don’t mind the mess, I’m still decorating and making it usable for work.”, she exhales. It has been a tiring process, especially with her mind being the mess it has been these last few days. Her heart was beating so fast. The butterflies in her stomach were enraged. MalinmyapartmentMalinmyapartment. 

It takes her back to these last days. Is it what it means to care for someone romantically? Lara can say she likes likes him, but can she believe she loves him? That’s not something she can answer, but it’s undeniable how the doctor craves time with the waiter, how she loves hearing his voice or seeing him working on his bike. True, she still knows very little about him, but it makes her happy that Mal can smile, really meaning it, when they talk. When they hang out together… WHY DOES THAT MAKES HER HEART BEAT SO FAST? She’s already aware of it, alright? No need for this! 

And the shivers? How does his voice seem to caress her neck whenever he speaks with her? It’s not something she can keep giving excuses for. No, it’s not the cold weather. It’s not the electromagnetic fields.

She can’t keep staring at his hands or lips anymore, it’s humiliating. 

The climbing is silent, broken only by their steps and Lara’s own uncontrollable heartbeat. She feels like a rabbit, but doesn't dwell on it. Talking with him about the thoughts of these last few days is way more important now, and Lara knows it. There’s one doubt in her mind, though, that she has to voice. “Is this place safe to talk?”

 Her voice sounds delicate as Mal crosses the threshold of her apartment, absorbing every detail as if he needed to burn it in his memory. The walls further from the windows sport midnight blue wallpapers filled with charting in silver and gold. The kitchen aisle was reformed and thousands of extra-small tiles that seemed to form a blue and green nebula were lightened by soft orange lamps.

  The old windows were removed and now wall-sized ones showed the verdant horizon of Fernweh. Heavy gray curtains could be used if Lara needed more privacy. Her trusty telescope was set in one of the windows overlooking the more wild side of the town. 

Adjacent to it, there was a whole set of modern lab equipment that Lara was still unpacking, a seemingly futuristic laboratory of calculators, monitors and sensors. Fairy lights that looked like twinkling stars were hung in perfect cuts and sizes. 

The whole place seemed like either a sci-fi lab or an old astronomer’s tower.

“I took care of it, you don’t need to worry tonight, Charmer.”, his voice resonates against the walls in a way that makes her tremble. Why? Was it the husky tone? Was the fact that Lara might feel a feathering touch at her arm?  

For some reason, the pressure of tonight seems way out of scale from their normal encounters. It was charged, almost short circuiting. Not insulated as it would usually be. Lara turns to her visitor. Her waiter. Her… Well.

Mal threw his unfastened apron over his shoulder. Their eyes meet and all words leave her. His eyes were almost crimson against the light. Cocking his head, Mal still has that coiled bearing, but his face transmits a very different message as she feels his electrifying focus pressed against her from head to toe. Deliberate. Slow. 

Oh gods, did she have any medicine for blood pressure? 

“Not tonight, huh? Did you tape the supernatural bugs in here? Well, no matter. This is good, I want to talk…”, she ever so softly takes his diner bag from his hands, trying to break eye contact. Key word trying. Focus, Lara!, “Sit, please? I’ll brew something for us. Hopefully I won’t mess up, I have no idea what’s inside these.”, Lara shut up. She brings the bag to the aisle, smelling the perfectly made parfait. She can’t wait to dig in the ripe strawberries, but this is more important. 

“There’s a certain type of drink that I want to taste, Lara. I’m sure that one, you have in here.”, his flirting catches Lara a bit off guard, but she breathes in, heart skipping once more. Her vision is almost blurry from her nerves and she knows she must be a glowing red alert, but she chuckles.

“I wouldn’t put so much trust in it if I were you.”, at that, Lara brings her visitor a cup of hot chamomile tea with milk and honey. As the waiter reaches for his cup, his left hand snakes and grabs the scientist’s left one, warmth suffusing against her palm. She jolts, balancing her tea without spilling it. 

“Looks like you’re learning to hold things better, Lara.”, he pulls her closer, eyes dead set on hers. Their knees bump into each other softly. “Why don’t you sit, Charmer? You’re home.”, Mal says, in a very honeyed and hushed voice. 

She can’t focus like that, but she sits beside him, focusing on the half finished planetarium close to her telescope. Lara sips her tea, tilting her head towards him once he starts to test the give of her fingers. It’s weird to have this… Intimate moments with someone, but not a bad weird. She softly smiles at that. Something that always makes him stop staring so intently. 

“I’m trying to make it homey, although I miss the lab… But this is not why I wanted to talk.” 

“I… hm, first, I’m sorry for not showing up at the diner. Before you said something enigmatic about it, I go there mostly for you, and we both know that.”, she says, looking inside her teacup. Mal will wait for her to speak, she knows that, but still, it is hard to maintain eye contact. And those words need to be said. Lara can’t afford to be hypnotized now. “So, sorry, I needed to think. I never had to deal with this before… And second, well…”, the astrophysicist trails off, eyes automatically burrowing into Mal’s crimson ones. She shudders a breath, but holds eye contact. It is most important. “What I was thinking about was… you.”

That soft expression she spotted other times was back. A fragile hope. Eye contact is broken, but not by her, this time. He seems to tense even more, if that’s possible. With deceptive strength, he pulls her even closer. The scientist reeds the unanswered question, their sides merging with proximity as if Mal couldn’t fathom not being this close with her. 

Then, his head snaps into attention until he’s hovering over her, hands still locked in that firm grip and teacup forgotten in the coffee table. Somehow, even her cup is not in her hands anymore.  

Her eyes scrutinize him, stopping at his lips, and she swallows. He’s biting the bottom one, on the brink of losing control over his calm. His face exudes something consuming, devouring.  

Lara takes a deep breath and searches the monitors on the walls for some reading that can distract her, so the rest can be said. 

“Wait, don’t speak. Sorry, it’s just that… I need to put these into words, and I’m terrible at that. But I think I might… Well…”, he seems to approach their faces, a ground out intent in his eyes. Their noses are almost touching, which makes it impossible for Lara to try to distract herself. Not when he’s this close, warm breath touching her lips. “I don’t ‘think’, I know that I do like you. I don’t know about love, but whatever we have now? It’s nice…”, the admission leaves a little too fast, as if she was desperate to breathe. “Fernweh hasn’t been the best place to be since I came back, but I am glad to have come and met you.”, the doctor manages to push out her remaining words, unable to look anywhere else but him.

He smells like cinnamon, sweet and warm. So warm… Her eyes trail down, locking on his indulgent smile.

“And what do we have, Lara? What is this?”, he says, amused, right hand starts a tentative trail on the right side of her rib cage. Lara doesn’t remember how her hand ended up on his chest, feeling the expanse of muscle beneath his shirt, softly tracing his rib cage, counting bones unintentionally.

Such a thin layer separating them. Such a thin layer of air doing the same.

Her voice is breathless, but she manages to squeeze out some words. “I don’t know… But I want to find out.”

The final distance is cut mostly by Mal, but also by a soft pull from her right hand and the eagerness of her eyes when she looks at him like that. 

As if he was one of the stars she’s so passionate about. 

There’s almost no control over the ferocity of his kiss, sending shivers all over her skin, but that is barely registered as Lara is drunk on the moment. He is still holding her left hand in an unrelenting grip, while his other hand tries to settle her in place so she doesn’t climb on his lap as she wished to do subconsciously. That kiss will leave a mark. She swallows the sweetness of his mouth with abandon, mind feeble. All thoughts are drowned in a fog. A haze of heat she doesn’t understand, but doesn’t shy away either. 

When Lara separates to breathe in, she can feel his smile at her soft gasps for air. A husky chuckle leaves him. 

She was never kissed like that. Her face is flush, but her eyes are still set on the prize. Mal’s eyes are a deep crimson and there’s nothing in this world that could make Lara move from that place right now. 

Is this the feeling of being hit by a supernova?

The woman lets the intrusive thoughts win and oh-ever-so-softly nips at his lower lip. That small action changes something in his fragile veneer of control. An almost death grip on the nape of her neck makes their lips join again with violence, pulling out a decadent moan from her throat. How can two bodies be even closer than they are now? He maneuvers her, setting a trail of kisses, sucks and nips down said throat, drinking her sensitiveness as more soft moans leave his scientist’s lips. Lara feels a bite at the junction of her neck and shoulder and that wakes her from her haze. The sensation that climbs down her lower belly makes her set her thighs together. Wide eyed and heavily flushed, the doctor stares at Mal’s almost too smug smile. “It looks like you learned your lesson well, Charmer.”

She can’t speak. Her heart is beating too fast. There’s too much blood rushing through her head. The doctor stands up suddenly, breathing in with desperation. Mal watches her, amused, even if he’s still holding her left hand in that dead-lock grip. 

Ever so slightly, she eases their hold until he lets go. The smugness is exchanged by a dark expression as Lara grabs the teacups and takes them to the kitchen aisle. I can't think. I can't think! Lara you can't just attack a guy like that!     

The scientist almost flees, but the waiter doesn’t wait for her to return. He gets up and remains just some steps behind her, merging their personal spaces. He doesn’t want any more distance between them. There was already enough of that for a lifetime. She's still trying to recover her breathing when he locks her between him and the aisle, intentionally so close that she doesn't have room to move. Tea cups again already out of her hands.  

“Lara, look at me.”, he commands, impatient for the first time since they started this. Her eyes are unerringly drawn to his, locking in again. As it was always meant to be. 

“Mal, I’m… I’m sorry! I should’ve asked first, not just…”

He has to bite down his bottom lip to avoid laughing. Of course that’s what she’s actually worried about. He’s unable to hide his smile when again, she’s hypnotized by his lips. “We can repeat that as many times as you want…”, he murmurs ever so softly. Approaching his lips to her ear, he gives her a hushed breath. “... Even more. I want all of you, Lara.” 

At that, Lara bites down her bottom lip and, in a practiced movement, she sits on the aisle, but it’s Mal that grabs her face and takes her breath away, making her hold onto him as if he was the only thing in this world that could set her free.  oc from @lacunafiction

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hi! I was wondering if you take request for Astarion and co.? The reader gets an aura migraine (worst kind of migraine in my opinion). But because of her/their past being a mercenary/hunter/warrior (whichever one), the reader doesn’t tell or even realize it until it’s too late. Just some angst and then love and care from Astarion.

I love your writing! So please take all the time you need to write this if you want to.

HIHI I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR SO LONG!!!!!!! I've been very tired as of late from all the schoolwork and I swear it's almost like I don't have any down time. Writing through this slog has been difficult as well and I don't like forcing/rushing things. Still, I managed to finish this, hope you like it!

Summary: You collapse right in front of Astarion due to a particularly bad aura migraine episode. Panic and emotional constipation ensues

Your head is splitting. Again.

Inhaling sharply, you let out a slow breath, willing the pain away so that you can focus on the task at hand. Black spots creep in on the edges of your vision but you blink them away, you can’t falter now. You swing your blade, slicing through another of Orin’s assassins before ducking as a dagger stabs the spot your head was at just moments ago.

Even with spotty vision, your battle instincts are enough to help you survive the fight, but you don’t emerge from the fight unscathed. One of the assassins manages to sneak up on you and gets a hit in, tearing open your shoulder.

“Y/N!”

You hiss in pain, whirling around to cleave the assassin in half with your blade. Your injured arm shakes from the exertion, fresh blood streaming from the wound with each motion. The throbbing pain doesn’t help your migraine in the slightest and you nearly keel over.

“My dear, you look terrible.” Astarion catches you just before you hit the floor, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” You grab onto him to steady yourself, blinking as your vision begins to swim and push yourself upright, flashing him a grin. “See? Perfectly fine!”

And then the world spins before fading to black.

Bright light fills your vision as you open your eyes, causing you to throw your arm up to block out the light, only for white hot pain to shoot through said arm.

Right. You had injured your arm.

Groaning, you rub your eyes with the other arm and tenderly push yourself upright, letting out a croaky yelp when your injured arm buckles beneath you. Closing your eyes, you breathe out slowly, releasing your annoyance at the current situation.

“How are you feeling?” A familiar deep voice sounds.

“Fine.” Your reply comes out harsher than you intended and you internally cringe when Halsin noticeably pauses, taken aback by your tone.

“Sorry,” you mutter quickly. “How long was I out for?”

“Sufficiently long to make everyone worry.” He hands you a flask of water. “Drink up.”

You down the flask almost immediately, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat and let out a contented sigh. The throbbing in your head has dulled to a quiet hum, but it will remain for a few more days, if past experience is anything to go by.

"Thank you." You hand the now empty flask back to Halsin.

"If you're feeling well enough, you should go and talk to the others. Some of them were particularly worried when you fainted on them." Halsin gives you a sly smirk. "Especially a certain vampire."

You raise an eyebrow and Halsin laughs, "he was the most worried. I had to chase him out of the tent just so I could tend to you."

"He was that worried," you murmur to yourself, frowning slightly. You hadn't meant to do that, well not like you had meant to faint in the first place but knowing just how much of an impact your little 'accident' had on Astarion made you feel bad.

"Watch yourself out there, you were lucky you only collapsed after all the enemies were defeated," Halsin chides as he rebandages your wound and hands you a healing potion. "Try to tell someone when you're not feeling well, alright?"

You laugh, waving him off, "I'll try, no promises though."

The moment you exit the room, the others rush over to check up on you, save for a pale elf who sends a scowl your way before disappearing into his own room, his door left ajar. You reassure the others, quickly making your way past the conversations and slip away with Halsin's help, ducking into a familiar room.

"Hey." You attempt to make conversation but a scowl remains firmly on his face, his gaze buried in the book he's holding. Sighing, you make your way to the bed and nestle into the remaining space, feeling his cooling skin press against your burning one.

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

"You're sorry? That's it? You're not going to explain why I suddenly had your unconscious body in my arms, why you had the audacity to tell me you were 'perfectly fine' before collapsing, why you —" He stops to take a breath he doesn't need, feeling every emotion rush to the surface and tears prick the corners of his eyes. He's mad, mad at you for not telling him anything, mad at himself for not noticing earlier, mad at himself for not being able to express his concern in a normal manner.

"Star…"

"You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be ok! Sorry fixes nothing!" He yells, wanting nothing more than for you to yell back at him so that he can release the emotions he doesn't know how to deal with in the only way he knows how but you remain quiet, head hung low, and that frustrates him even more.

"You're right. Sorry fixes nothing. I…" You let out a deep sigh, lifting your gaze to meet his. You can see the tear streaks that have formed, the fear in his eyes, the anxiety and it steals your breath away.

"Halsin wasn't kidding. You really are extremely worried for me." You can't help but give a small chuckle despite it all, a quiet smile making its way onto your face.

"Of course I'm worried!" Astarion snaps.

"Thank you for being worried." You slip your hand into his. "No one's ever been this worried about me before."

"Have you fainted in someone's arms before?" He huffs, annoyed, but he has simmered down.

"Well…not quite. I always went on quests alone, fought alone, but the times I wasn't alone…let's just say things didn't go so well for me." You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. "You all…you…are the first people I don't mind calling friends."

He clicks his tongue and looks away, but you can see the red on the tips of his ears. Your own cheeks are burning from the confession, your heart thundering like never before and you want nothing more than to bury your face into your knees.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" He mumbles after a while, still refusing to meet your gaze.

"Is there a reason I should be?" You murmur, running your thumb along his skin. His grip on you tightens and he bites his lip, shifting anxiously.

"There are many." The words leave his lips in a whisper and he wishes he could take them back when he sees the way your face falls.

"I can't think of any. I can, however, think of reasons for you to be angry at me." You shake your head. "I should have told you about my migraines earlier instead of having you find out like that, I should have done more than a simple 'sorry', I should have thought about you instead of just keeping to myself."

"You were just doing what you knew was safe. I'm no better."

"But you chose to open up to me. You spilled your deepest darkest secrets and yet I kept mine from you because I didn't want to look weak. I should have returned the favour, but I didn't." All your regrets come spilling forth, its flow stemmed only by the feeling of soft lips against your own.

He kisses you gently at first, and then it deepens, becoming more urgent as he conveys his feelings to you the only way he knows how.

"You're strong. You're the strongest person I know. You've been through so much, and yet you refuse to let any of it stop you. You've been dealing with your migraine by yourself for so long, putting up with the pain by yourself, nothing about that is weak in the slightest." He presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into his embrace. "Let me share in your burden as you share in mine."

"It's only fair, I suppose." Your lips curve into a grin. Letting out a quiet breath, you entangle your fingers in his curls, feeling him lean into the touch. "Promise?"

"Promise," he murmurs back, soaking in the moment. There's only you and him, bodies pressed against each other, embracing like it's the last time you'll ever see each other, washing away the throbbing in your head and the ache in his heart.

He closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth of your body tightly pressed against him, breathing in your scent that speaks of love, comfort, safety, feeling the rhythmic strokes of your fingers through his hair, and wants for nothing else. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he smiles, genuinely, and saves this moment in his memory.

"Get well soon, my love."

[tonyboneysblog]

ACCIDENTAL NAB P2

paring: thief!hawks x princess!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: profanity

Notes: part two! I really love this series sm😭 hawks his mean also

Summary: thief!hawks steals you away and takes you far from your home! On accident…

Part one: ACCIDENTAL NAB P1

You feel warm. you’re soundly sleeping after you dosed off, still not trusting the three men who took you away from your home.. (obviously)

your dreams have never been nice ones but for once they feel warm, you can vividly see all of your sisters crammed together trying to guess all the words in your fathers books.

you can hear them laughing while you walk into the room, they see you and their eyes brighten.

They practically beg you to read the book aloud to the three of them, you walk over and cuddle into their warmth. They whisper soft comments about the story while slowing falling under sleeps spell.

It’s so warm in this dream, you want to be here for- flick!

you open your eyes to see yellow ones staring right into your very soul.

“Morning!” He loudly chirps.

“…mph” your mouth is still gagged by the cloth, of course it is.

“Well I’m assuming that’s a good response instead of an insult…”

You look around the carriage, it’s not terrible but it’s not as good as yours back at home…obviously.

Dabi speaks up, “listen here and listen good, princess, we don’t need you causing a..ruckus while we’re in this god forsaken place.”

“Hey I quite like this trading post” the blonde responds.

“Shut the hell up hawks.” Dabi says curtly.

Hawks raises his hands in the air as a surrender motion, while Tokoyami hustles towards you. Guiding you out of the carriage .

“Just follow close to us.” Tokoyami says in a whisper.

You glance around the bigger town, many are staring, many scoff…for some reason.

Your used to the stares, mostly because your the princess, but still your surprised no one has recognized you yet? Don’t you people love you, shouldn’t they immediately recognize someone they worship?!

You wish you could just run away but, these three men are huddled around you like your some…Someone to be bought! And you are in fact priceless.

The four of you pass by many shops, some more worn down than others…god you miss your kingdom.

“There’s the bar…” Dabi says.

Hawks scoffs, “please Dabi, we’re with royalty at the moment, maybe don’t think about getting wasted?”

Dabi sighs, slouching down slightly in defeat…”her damn fault for hiding in a box.”

Tokoyami snickers softly, until you send him a glare that could envy your fathers.

He clears his throat, “don’t question the future queens decisions…”

Dabi laughs, “if she’s the future queen then we’re all doomed, thank the gods we took-“

“Could you two maybe not speak so loudly of us having the princess..?” Hawks angrily whispers towards the two.

They all finally shut their traps. You’d rather listen to your sister rant about how ‘gorgeous the gardener is!’.

you just want to be with your family honestly.

Your father always bossed you around anyways, you should be glad for this small bit of freedom! But, he only did it because he loved you…or maybe because you looked so much like your mother.

No, no, no thinking about the past…these men don’t even deserve to see your tears roll down your face! They’d probably collect them and sell it to the night market anyway…

You finally reached the shop you were supposed to be at, you watch as some of your most luxurious items go towards the shop keeper, as his eyes widen with glee.

“Sorry about your stuff…” Tokoyami whispers softly into your ear, “we do what we have to.”

“Mmphph”

The four of you leave after making a deals, the men stashing the shined golden coins into their pouches. How has no one recognized you still? Can’t they see your their next Queen?!

no matter how many eyes you stare dead into, no one even makes a move to help. Maybe they’re just scared to butt in!

or maybe…they don’t even know who you are.

you shake your head, I mean you weren’t as popular as your sisters, with all their beauty and charm…but! You were the oldest. Maybe that’s why no prince asked for your hand in marriage.

No, y/n stop that, you are just as great as all your sisters! Someone will have to recognize you, right?

“Should we rest here for the night sir?” Tokoyami says to hawks.

Hawks looks glances at you, then towards Tokoyami, “you tired ‘Yami?”

Tokoyami nods, “only slightly, I’m just worried for the…our friend here.”

Three kidnappers worried about your sleep schedule is absolutely perplexing to you.

“Yknow my favorite thing about SableStome has always been their amazing inns.” Dabi says with dullness.

Hawks laughs, “Can’t tell if you’re being serious or sarcastic.”

Dabi sighs, “Their beds are nice.”

Hawks then confidently starts to stride to the inn, “I suppose we have to stay then, right?”

confident men are always your least favorite, I mean no man has actually spoken more than 10 words to you but still.

Honesty you feel a twinge of excitement that you’ll be sleeping in a nice soft bed instead of a small, stuffy carriage…or box.

Hawks swings open the door to the inn and walks over towards the front desk, “two beds please~” he coos out.

The woman at the front desk smiles softly, “it’s nice to see you again hawks, new friend coming with you?” She ushers towards you.

no, your not their new “traveling buddy”, your the very popular and very kidnapped princess!

“Yep! She’s not the talker though…” says hawks.

Of course you’re not a talker, you’re being gagged by some nasty hanker cheif.

“Alrighty, here’s your key!” She slides the key over towards hawks.

“Thank you sweetie..” he says.

The sun has almost finished setting, you can tell from the window you’re looking out of, it’s gorgeous…reminds you of when your mother would take you to the shoreline and spill wise words from her mouth.

it’s truly terrible that you no longer remember a single thing she’s said.

“Hey, snap out of it” Hawks comes into your peripherals, “we got a nice room for ya, princess, cmon…”

He walks away. It’d be nice to get some rest..at least you couldn’t think about the past in your sleep, or atleast not too in depth.

You walk up the stairs, following behind hawks closely, opening the door then looking around the room.

It’s about the size of your closet, not terrible, the beds are kinda big at-least, only two…wait two?

Who in gods name is trying to cuddle up to you in the middle of the night? No princess should be…even sleeping near someone of their status!

Hawks looks towards your distressed expression, “What?”

“Mphpmph!” You muffle out.

“Do you want the gag off..?”

Well it would be nice, but that wasn’t what you were trying to say!

“Mrmphphpm”

“I mean…promise you won’t yell?” He says softly.

Well there’s really no point in yelling, what’s the clerk gonna do against three men….

You nod eagerly, hawks shakes his head letting out a small chuckle, “fine, fine.”

He pulls down your hood, undoes your scarf, then unties your gag, pocketing it. Slightly gross but at least it’s off now.

“You must be out of your damned, trivial, insignificant mind if you think I’m even sharing a bed with you, you big boned avian.”

Hawks sighs, “I didn’t take it off so you could just be mean…”

“you heard me.” You say.

Hawks looks at you, “what do you want me to do, sleep on the floor?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking! glad your meager brain could think the same as me.”

“Alright the gag is going back on-“ “w-wait hold on!”

Hawks stops, raising his eyebrow.

“I-I uhm…it is improper for someone of my status to sleep with...you.”

Hawks rolls his eyes, “look, you may think your reallll important but your sisters are way more admired than you are. We barely even recognized you as royalty.”

well ouch…

He continues, “Not to mention that not one single person has even tried to help you, so stop complaining about who you sleep next to.”

Tokoyami steps in, “no need to be so harsh to her, Hawks, I doubt you would want to sleep near people who accidentally kidnapped you..?”

“Well she wanted to be all sassy!” Hawks says agitated.

Dabi speaks from the bed, “I say she needed the wake-up call.”

“You’re not helping.” Tokoyami says.

You stomp over towards the vacant bed, slamming yourself down into it.

“Hm, guess she’s over it!” Hawks says cheerfully.

Tokoyami and Dabi sigh, hawks looks at both of them, “what?”

Their voices slowing fade as you push yourself farther and farther into your own head. You’re already having a terrible time, being kidnapped and all, but they just rub the salt deeper into the wound!

How would mother respond? never mind actually, she would have never fussed in the first place. Father most likely would have beat their head into a plup. Mother made him soft, made you soft, then she was gone.

Your sisters barely remember her, but you remember her smile, your father says she looks exactly like you.

You can feel the a second weight be put onto the bed, you don’t care who it is, hopefully it’s the nice bird headed one.

do your sisters miss you as much as you miss them? Who’ll read to them, who’ll will be there to check their dress or if they look presentable enough to see the man who wants their hand in marriage?

You open your eyes slightly, looking towards a window. It’s dark out, how long have you been stuck in your own head?

You rise from the bed quietly, you look at the door, it’s locked tight so you can run out. You make your way towards the windowsill, sitting down.

Your tired but not tired enough to fall asleep just yet, your heads to full of thoughts anyway, when have you ever been this sentimental?

The moon is beautiful tonight, bright and fully lit. You’re glad your father taught you how to read because then you’d never know how the moon changes.

You didn’t know which one you liked more, the sun or the moon? Then again the sun could shine by itself while the moon needed the sun to shine even half as bright.

“What’re you doing..?” Says a soft, sleepy voice.

You look over to where the voice could’ve been, locking eyes with yellow ones.

“Nothing.” You says curtly.

Hawks rubs his eyes, “your one weird princess, huh?”

“That’s rude.”

“You’re rude.”

There’s silence after hawks speaks.

“Well-“

He cuts you off, “Come back to bed.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I just don’t want a grumpy princess in the morning…”

You huff, “fine.” Then plop yourself onto the bed, “don’t suffocate me with your wings, I’m important.”

“Sure you are…” he says tiredly.

“I am.”

“I’m not disagreeing.”

“good.”

You close your eyes, the warmth he emits isn’t…terrible. In fact, it’s quite comforting.

“Hey” hawks whispers.

“what.” Your reply quietly.

“Why were you in that box, no judgement it’s just…weird?”

You sigh, “I was…playing hide and seek.”

He starts laughing, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t wake the others, “stupid…”

He flips around, facing you. “sorry that we took you…”

“yes, you should be..”

“You are so hard to be nice to..”

“My father-“

“I don’t wanna hear about your father, I already see his face in every town we go to.”

Well isn’t that insulting, your father is wonderful!…wait, do the people see your face too?

“Hmph.”

“What?”

“Do you see my face too?…in public?”

Hawks looks towards the ceiling, then back at you, “I see your sisters more.”

“Hm…”

That’s why no one recognized you, your barely even publicized.

“Don’t know why though, I personally think you’re prettier than your sisters” he says faintly.

“Really?”

“no.”

“Asshole.”

He starts giggles, his wings puffing up slightly.

“Such a way with words eh? I’ll leave you alone now”

“good, your terrible company.”

He snickers and turns to his side, facing away from you.

“Night, princess”

You only hum in agreement.

It’s not terrible here, but you oh so badly want out from this small freedom.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fake Love Part 8/8

This story will have an Epilogue!!!! 😭

⚠️Warning ⚠️

18+

Reader is a kindergarten teacher. Nothing more nothing less. But following an accident whistle vacation in Dubai she somehow makes her boyfriend believe that she does somthing else for a living, something that earns her way more money than she has. Her boyfriend, Ruben, is just happy to have found someone who understands him so well, someone who doesn't want him for his money since money isn't an issue for neither reader or himself. Or so thinks. Would finding out the truth ruin their newfound relationship? Readers thinks so, and does everything to keep up the lie, although it has some bad people from the middle east looking for her.

Enjoy!

Apperently Ruben and his team were already in London when he called you yesterday. Stevenage was only an hour away by car, so now he was here, asleep in your bed. You watched him when he slept, his chest heaving up and down with his slow breathing. You placed a hand to his naked torso, running it down his washboard abs. Ruben's body stirrded with your motion, but did not awake, or at least he did not open his eyes.

"What time is it?" He grunted, voice deep and heavy in the morning.

"Early." You smiled.

One eye flung open. "Too early to cuddle?"

You bit your lip and shook your head.

Ruben's arms stretched for you across the matress. He pulled you closer, your chest against his chest. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Ruben."

"You look beautiful."

"Don't lie."

He frowned.

"No one looks beautiful in the morning Ruben, well....maybe except for you."

"And you." He tugged you closer, although it was physically impossible. "We're both beautiful people. Life is such a struggle for us."

You giggled, then made the effort to get on top of him. His eyes were fully open now as his hands moved up and down your thighs.

"Good morning."

"You already said that."

"I know." He grinned. "I'm just a messenger, someone else wants you."

You gasped a little as something pocked your back. Looking behind, you saw Ruben's full fledged erection trying to escape his boxers. You turned back to him. "I want you to meet my parents today."

"Um, okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." He nodded, a bit distracted.

You pushed your palms against his chest, sliding backwards until you had his cock between your legs. "You must know that they're just normal people my parents."

"Mhm...sure baby."

You were grinding your hips, moving them slowly against his shaft.

"Normal people, like you and me?" He asked, trying to keep up with what you were telling him. But as you've come to learn through your facetime calls, Ruben was terrible at multitasking when horny.

"No, normal people like me." You mumbled.

Ruben threw his head back, his hands helping guide your hips to rock themselves faster against him. You paused. "Do you want to come like this or inside me?"

He raised his head from the pillow, meeting your eyes. "Inside." His head bobbed up and down. "Definitely inside."

You raised yourself to sit in a crouching position, legs spread for Ruben to see you push your panties aside, revealing how wet you were for him. You sat back down but struggled to have him inside you right away.

"Slowly baby, take it slow."

He was big, big and wide.

"Fuck, you feel so good." His hands went under your shirt, groping your breast. "So fucking good."

You were enjoying yourself, but the focus was to please him, to make him feel good.

"Baby not that fast, I'm gonna come right away."

"I want you to come." You let his cock slide in and out of you with the rocking motion of your hips.

"But baby..." He groaned, a vein visible against his throat. "Baby please, don't..." It was too late. Your motions increased, making Ruben sprout his seed into your womb. Of course, the pill you were taking would take care of that asap.

Ruben flipped you over to lay on your back, regarding you curiously. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me come so fast?"

You turned to lay on your side, your head resting in your hand. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Ruben swiped his thumb across your cheek, removing a dead eyelash "I wanted both of us to come, together."

You shrugged. "Would've taken us too much time."

He frowned. But you ignored him and got up and out of bed. "I have some work to take care of today. We can go to my parents house when I return, but it's best for you to stay in the apartment in the meantime." God knows if somone spotted him outside. Ruben was sitting on the edge of the bed with the sheets between his legs, when you turned back to look at him.

"Can I ask you something?" He said.

"Sure."

You were going through your closet, searching for an outfit to wear for the day. You were glad that Ruben didn't ask so many questions as to why you had so much of your stuff in "Alicia's apartment."

"Yesterday on the phone..."

You stiffened knowing just where the conversation was going.

"....I told you I loved you, but you didn't say it back?" He looked confused, sad and confused. You left the closet and approached him. "Oh bay, I was just stressed. Of course I love you too." You bent down and kissed him, glad that he was kissing you back with equal amount of passion. His words were spoken against your lips. "Good, now let me make you come."

You squealed as his arms wrapped around you, wrestling you back down against the matress. Ruben stayed on top, pulling down the front of his boxers to reveal how hard he still was for you.

"And I'm gonna take as much time as I want with you, got it?"

You smiled. "Yes sir."

********************************************

You went about your day, quite happy with how it started. Ruben knows that you love him and when you introduce him to your parents later tonight you're also gonna tell him the truth about who you really are. He deserves to know.

"Miss?"

"Miss?"

"Yes Simon?"

You peered over your desk to see the little boy, once again, with a pen up his nose.

"It's stuck."

"Of course it is."

You took him to the nurses office, appointing another teacher to guard your class. Upon returning to the classroom  you bumped into...

"Y/N, can I talk to you?"

"If you make it quick Byron?"

He looked remorsful, as if...

"I regret the way I ended things last night. I'm sorry."

You sighed, really having nothing personal against Byron. "Apology excepted. I have to get back to my class."

"I'll lend you the money!" He blurred out.

"Really?"

He nodded.

You folded your arms. "What's the catch?"

"No, catch. You seem to really need it and I'm stupid for not realizing that last night. I put you in an even more uncomfortable spot and I'm sorry."

You uncrossed your arms and approached him. "Enough apologies." Byron's cheek blossomed when you pressed your lips against it. "Thank you. This means more than you know."

It meant the world. All was well. You were gonna pay Mr Siddiq back everything of what you owe. And then you would...."

"Whatta hell is going on?"

"Nina?"

It was your boss, the school principal, marching towards the two of you down the hall.

"Where are all the children?"

"What do you mean?" You looked to Byron who peered into one of the classrooms. "They're gone." He said.

"No shit." Nina hissed. "And where is the rest of my faculty?"

An open window revealed commotion in the school yard. You, Byron and Nina rushed out to see what it was all about.

"Alicia?"

It was Alicia, alongside Ruben. The children and some members of the faculty were surrounding him, asking, no begging him to sign anything of their belonging, shoes, backpacks...

"What are you doing here and why did you bring Ruben?" You asked, through clenched teeth. However your expression softened seeing the look of terror in Alicia's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry."

You frowned. "For what?"

"They got em'." She sniffled.

"Got who? Who's got who Alicia?"

"I dunno, the fucking national guard or something. Apparently they raided your parents house in search for you. The local police has brought them in for interrogation."

"W...what?" A lump in your throat. Just then Ruben managed to escape the children. "Y/N, what's going on?" He looked both angry and confused, Alicia must have told him the truth.

"Y/N!" The voice of your boss sparked behind you. "What is all this?" She was looking at Ruben and so did Byron. Ruben who was getting ambushed by the children again.

"I...I can explain."

"There is no time." Alicia said, grabbing your hand and dragging you to her car. Ruben fought himself free and ran after you. "Y/N, can you please tell me what's going on?"

It hurt so much, seeing the confusion in his eyes, the confusion you had caused. "I'm not...." You inhaled. "I'm not who you think I am."

He froze, not quite sure what any of that meant.

"I'm a liar Ruben, a fucking liar. I've lied about everything to you. I'm not rich, I'm a kindergarten teacher.

"But...Portugal." He stuttered.

"Portugal was a lie. Everything you saw me buy it was all a facade, all a game to impress you. I've been borrowing money from a man named Muhammed Siddiq, money I can't pay back. And now I've got to the police and turn myself in."

Alicia continued to drag you towards the car.

"Y/N wait!"

He didn't give up. Ruben just refused to let you go. "You and me? Everything that happened between you and me, was that also a lie?"

You shook your head, knowing there was only one way to end things. "I'm sorry. "

His shoulders fell, finally accepting the betrayal.

"Goodbye Ruben."

You and Alicia drove off. Off to confess your many sins.

The End

[dark-elf-writes]

Shika breaking his retainer over Naruto is the biggest mood my god. God help him if he sees Naruto’s aerial silk routine.

And Zabuza could be the dance teacher that replaces the old bitchy one after she made Naruto cry and had an “accident.” Neither he or Haku has any patience for the passive aggressive moms, so they either have to shut up or ship out.

Shikamaru, watching Naruto practice his silks: I need to lay down I need to lay down I need to lay down.

Choji, who has watched this gay disaster in slow motion for years, is already laying a pillow out for when Shika eventually faints: I got you bud.

—

Zabuza enters the first day only to get pulled to the side by a pissed Kakashi like “My son is in your class and if you make him cry because he wants to dance the girl part I will break every bone in your fucking body.”

Zabuza who is not a bigot and has an entire genderqueer child of his own (unaware of how terrible the last teacher was perhaps?) is frankly offended that the warning was thought to be needed.

Haku on the other hand walks into class, hears one of the bitchier moms scoff that there’s “another one” and kicks her ass to the curb before she knows what’s happening. They are not here to play.

[bridgyrose]

Heya, if you're up for writing some prompts, here's one that's been buzzing in my head for a bit:

...

Cinder struggles speaking due to an accident, Neo is born mute. When they meet both of them are in the process of learning sign language. Neo struggles more than Cinder and asks if Cinder could type out things via conversation. Cinder is reluctant, as she has dyslexia, but doesn't know and just assumes she is terrible at reading. It a sore spot and insecurity of hers.

...

A bit of an odd one, but if you feel like it, I'd be happy to read what you come up with XD

(Enjoy!)

“Can you please slow down?” 

Cinder paused for a moment and slowly took the scroll that Neo showed her and nodded, setting it down and slowing her movements as she signed. “You’ll never get better if you dont practice.” 

“And typing is easier,” Neo typed out on her scroll with a frown as she showed it to Cinder. “Cant you type instead?” 

Cinder paused for a moment as she tried to read the question over, watching as a few letters almost seemed to flip where positions. She blinked a couple times and slowly pushed the scroll down to the ground, signing as she mouthed out a few words. “Signing is easier. And you need practice-” 

“I cant do it!” 

Cinder winced as she heard Neo’s scroll clatter on the table, catching the sentence that Neo had typed out. She let out a quiet sigh and slowly brought her hands down onto the table. Signing had always been easier for her, and the idea of trying to read out any messages Neo typed up made her skin crawl. It was bad enough she had trouble reading and writing, and trying to explain that to Neo felt like she was making excuses. With a heavy sigh, she slowly picked up the scroll and started to type with it, moving slowly as she tried to get each letter right. She paused for a moment as the letters seemed to flip around and move in front of her, her fingers shaking as her eyes followed them. 

She nearly jumped as she felt Neo’s hand on her own, not realizing she’d been staring at the scroll screen for a few minutes without typing. On instinct, she started to finger spell instead of type again. “I’m finding the right words.” 

Neo rolled her eyes a bit and took her scroll back, typing out quickly once more. “You dont know how to type, do you?” 

“I can type!” Cinder signed quickly and angrily. “I can type just fine!” 

“Then what is it? You were staring at my scroll like a deer in the headlights, almost as if you quit thinking and werent sure what to do.” 

“I…” Cinder paused and dropped her hand for a moment, stopping between signs as she looked away, keeping her hands close to her chest. “I… dont read well.”

Neo stared at the signs for a moment, catching a few that she recognized and slowly started to type into her scroll and pressed play, closing her eyes as she listened to the robotic voice. 

“Then I can teach you.” 

Cinder shook her head and started to sign again, going slow and using the signs that she knew Neo would recognize. “The letters… move and flip. I have a hard time keeping track of them on the screen and pages.” 

Neo frowned for a moment and started to mess with a few settings on her scroll to change the font and color of each letter that appeared. With a smile, she slid her scroll across to the table and motioned for Cinder to look at it.

Cinder slowly picked it up and read the message that was left on the scroll in a font that made each letter unique with a cursive flourish. 

“Is this any better?” 

Cinder nodded and slowly started to type again, pausing at each letter as she waited for letters and numbers to move. After a couple minutes, she finally smiled and handed the scroll back to Neo. “That is much better.” 

“Great! Then I dont have to learn sign anymore.” 

Cinder paused for a moment as she watched Neo lift the screen with a grin and start to walk off. She found herself signing wildly and angrily as she followed Neo, her fingers shaking with anger. “You cant just leave! We’re supposed to be learning this together! Get back here or we’re both going to fail class!”

[doodle-pops]

Hello! Can I get how the elves would react to the reader breaking their leg? Last week I was stupid and tripped getting out my car in the uni parking lot and somehow managed to get my leg stuck and twisted in the doorframe as I went down 😂 broken leg but the embarrassment hurt more though. Love your writing.

I read this entire incident and when 'whoa that kinda sounds like me and my clumsy ass'. I've never broken a bone but I would definitely get caught up in something like that ☺️☺️ ehehe. I do hope that you're not in immense pain currently. Wishing you a speedy recovery💞💞. Do be safe even though it was an accident.

Watches the entire scenario play out before them in slow motion, unblinking and wondering 'how clumsy can you get?' Until they hear you cry out in pain and realize that you're actually injured and require serious attention. They know that you're in pain, thus, they would do their best to cheer you up to distract you as you await the medics. Would probably make a few jokes on how you fell, "I've never seen someone fall so graceful as you my dear. Swans are envious." If you weren't in so much pain, you'd hit them while laughing. You were grateful to have them around because they weren't tolerating anyone else mocking you. Hands are throwing.

- CELEGORM, FINGON, GLORFINDEL, Finrod, EGALMOTH, Elladan

Rushes to you in an instant only to catch you late and wince as you cry out in pain. Would beat themselves up for not being able to save you in time (this sounds like a superhero). Soft coos and gentle ribs to distract you from the pain. Would hum a song while checking out your leg hoping that it wasn't a terrible break. "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I wish I could have saved you and now you broke your leg. I'm sorry," followed by a million kisses while cradling you. Quick to have the scene cleared so you don't feel ashamed of your accident.

- MAEDHROS, MAGLOR, CARANTHIR, CELEBRIMBOR, FINGOLFIN, Fingon, Turgon, FINROD, AEGNOR, ELROND, Elrohir, ROG, Maeglin, GALDOR, Glorfindel

[blue-flamed-phoenix]

Chapter 1 - Where there is death there is rebirth - Patrick Hockstetter Fanfic

"Yeah I know right, like why the fuck are boys always so unobservant." Ashley groaned with a bratty attitude as she walked along the side walk with her friend Bella by her side. The two girls were currently gossiping about Derry High's latest proclaimed douche bags. "And what about Noah huh? I'm tellin' you Ashy, you should dump his ass, he obviously doesn't give a shit about you." Bella stated as they turned down a street the lamposts illuminating the dark depths of the street. 

Now your probably thinking why the hell are they walking around town at night time. 

Well, let's see, it's like in horror movies, the dumb college kids decide to walk out of the house even though they know there is obviously someone outside. This was almost like that except, well, there is no madman or scary figure trying to chase and kill them. No, instead tonight would mark the night of a terrible accident and almost a tragedy. Or perhaps it might've just been a gift from the heavens...or hell.

"Yeah, probably will, he's been getting on my nerves lately, I mean would it kill him to take me out on a date just every once in a while." Ashley said as she spun around turning her back to the road, as she began to walk backwards as she spoke to her friend.

"That's my girl, Oh my gosh my Ashy's growing up." She said with fake despair and Ashley laughed. "God I can't wait for this semester to be over" Ashley said changing the subject after a second. "Yeah me too, the assignments are just kicking my ass at the moment." Bella stated as the two girls had bright smiles on their faces as they walked. Then silence broke out between them before Ashley's smile disappeared. "Hey, uh Bella I um just wanted to say that your a really good friend. Any guy would be a fool to let you go." Ashley said as she kept walking backwards completely unaware that she was nearing the side of the road.  

"Yeah, you are too Ashley" Bella said as they walked towards a curb completely unaware of the car that was speeding down the road at all. "Well on the agenda tonight, let's see, romantic movies, popcorn and let's not forget all the freakin candy in the world" Ashley said listing out what they were planning to do when they got to Ashley's house. But little did they know this night would take a drastic turn for the worst. "Oh yeah! now that's what I'm talkin' about" Bella said excitedly as they sped up there pace a little. "Come on, ya gotta keep up ya slow poke" Ashley said as she sped up whilst still walking backwards.

As Ashley nears the curb Bella suddenly picks up on the roaring sound of an engine and looks down the road to see a speeding car heading their way. "Wait! Ashley! Stop!" Bella yelled out but Ashley instead just dismissed it and smiled. "nuh uh, I am not falling for that. I'm going to get there first." Ashley teased as she kept going. "No! Stop!!! Ashley look out!" Bella screamed but it was too late. Ashley slipped and fell backwards onto the road just as the car get to the curb. 

Then everything seems to happen in a slow motion. 

Bella screams loudly in horror as she watched the car hit Ashley and send her friend flying further down the road. The driver in the car of course, screeched to a halt upon seeing Ashley but it was too late. The car had hit her and the damage was now done. And there Ashley's body lay, a few ways down the road, bloodied and quite possibly...broken. 

"ASHLEY!" Bella screamed as tears ran down her face whilst she sprinted towards her friend who lay on her side in the middle of the road, bleeding profusely from a large head wound. The driver of the car came rushing out of their car and towards the two girls. 

Bella dropped to her knees as she pulled Ashley into her arms. "No, No, No Ashley No! Wake up! Please wake up!" Bella whimpered as she held her friend in her arms. Once it came to bella that Ashley wasn't waking up she began to panic. "Help! Somebody help please! Help!" Bella screamed at the top of her lungs urgently as blood continued to gush from Ashley's head.

"Oh my god, hold on I'll radio for help!" The driver spoke as he sprinted back to his car. "No, no, no please god, please don't let her die please." Bella begged as she looked down at her friend sobbing. "Your gonna be ok Ashley! hang in there" Bella said as the sound of distant sirens suddenly took away the tragic silence of a tragic accident, one that would change Ashley's entire life forever. 

But as Bella sat there, cradling Ashley in her arms, up in the night sky above them was a shooting star. 

Now of course a shooting star can mean many things like finding new love or hope or great fortune. But also a shooting star is a sign of a new beginning, a sign of a new life being created. Some might call it a miracle, others might call it a message from satan himself but for Ashley Sullivan, this might just be a gift from the gods above.

[alchemicalxsoul]

At just five years old, little Remington tried so hard to get things done on her own. To take care of herself as best she could. There was no real dependency on her parents when they could barely depend on themselves. The less she had to bother them, the better her day had the hopes of being. Remi had needed a bowl to make her some cereal for dinner, as it was one of few things she could make a meal of on her own. After pulling out the milk that was three days past its expiration and using the wobbling kitchen chair to grab down the cereal from the small pantry, Remington had pulled the chair over to the counter nearest the sink.

She was so certain there was still a clean bowl in the cupboard since she hadn’t eaten anything all day. From the seat of the chair she’d climbed up into, Remi scootched up onto the counter and opened the door, meeting disappointment when she discovered the bowl wasn’t there. A heavy little sigh escaped her when she realized she would need to do the dishes before she could eat something. There was a low grumbling from her stomach, protesting the idea of postponing food. She was just so hungry.

When she set about trying to get the dishes cleaned up, Remington had attempted to do so as quietly as she could. Disturbing her parents from their drug-induced sleep sprawled out on the couch in the living room had proved ill-fated several times before. What made her think that today would be any less horrible than any other day? Something was bound to happen as it always did, and when she reached over to put the rinsed bowl into the drying rack on the counter, Remi didn’t have to wait any longer to figure out what terrible thing would befall her that day.

It was like witnessing slow-motion replay on one of those sports games her father would often watch on the television on the weekends. She could feel her grip slipping as the weight of the bowl partnered with gravity, pulling the bowl from her wet little fingers. Her head darted to the side, catching sight of the bowl falling as she sucked in a fear laced shocked breath. It connected with the countertop. CLANK. She flinched. It was followed by a sort of gravelly sound as it rolled across the counter to teeter on the ledge for what seemed like the longest five seconds in the world. And then came the drop.

She drew back, wide eyes flickering between the darkened doorway and the bowl that lay broken on the kitchen floor. The shattering echoes still rang in her ears, drowning out the angered shouts coming from further down the hallway as her trembling little hands clutched at her chest. Fear wound tightly through her, rooting her to the spot despite the panic clawing at her mind in its attempts to get her to move. She hadn’t meant to drop it. It had slipped. It was an accident. But she would pay for it, regardless of the fact.

[doctoreads]

WAIT A MINUTE! WAIT A DAMN MINUTE! What the heck was that last line?

Well hello there Joe Goldberg 2.0!

This is a story about grief and obsession and I was hooked from the very first chapters, thanks to the erratic and unprofessional behaviour of our darling protagonist.

Suspension of disbelief is absolutely necessary to get the most out of this wild ride because yes, our MC does NOT make sense and most of her decisions are unbelievable; it's like watching a terrible accident unfold in slow motion.

If this author ever writes another psychological thriller, I will be reading it because reasons, a lot of reasons.

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[themadlostgirl]

Let Me Help

FINALS ARE OVER! So to celebrate I am finally finishing my requests! Let’s do this thing!

Prompt: Reader gets hurt during training and Felix helps her.

~~~

You were hopeless. Absolutely and completely hopeless.

That’s what everyone on Neverland kept saying at training. You were a clumsy and weak idiot that could barely lift the sword you were given to train with. The comments stung. You knew that you were new to this and had not real experience fighting anyone before but to be constantly belittled by all the boys was making your confidence plummet.

If they just went a little slower or didn’t go as hard you could get used to the motions and learn how to block blows and strike properly. But no. They came at you as if you were a seasoned fighter and laughed and jeered when you fell flat on your ass.

This couldn’t go on. You needed to get better at fighting and it needed to happen soon before they ended up killing you.

So you trained harder and longer by yourself. You hid on the sidelines and watched others fight and tried to copy their motions. It was slow progress but you were progressing. Your movements got quicker, smoother, harder. But you were still far from being able to properly defend yourself. At the most you could keep from being killed immediately if confronted with an enemy.

Apparently your minimal progress with training had not gone unnoticed. Pan himself had pulled you aside and told you to get your act together soon or else.

“Or else what?” you had asked, terrified by your leader’s harsh tone.

“I think you know what,” he had said before wandering off.

If you didn’t make any progress soon you were going to end up dead. Either from a training accident or on purpose to purge your uselessness from the camp. Your heart hammered loud in your chest and you struggled to breathe. What were you supposed to do? You felt like crying but swallowed it back. This was not a time for tears. You needed a plan. You needed to get better. But how? No one was willing to help you in the way you needed and working by yourself wasn’t helping either.

It was another day of training and with it a new round of bruises as you were tossed about like a ragdoll. When you had fallen once again the others above you laughed and kicked dirt on you.

“This is too easy, I’m getting bored,” one of them said.

“Yeah, let’s see if someone else is willing to pummel her.” another said. “Ooh, I got the perfect candidate.”

The boys ran off and you took the reprieve to catch your breath. What could you do? Was there anything you could do? Were you just delaying the inevitable? Your hands fisted in the grass trying to keep yourself together so you didn’t break down in the middle of the training field.

The sun beaming down on you disappeared as new shadows loomed above you. You looked up and froze at who the boys had grabbed to torment you. Felix. Pan’s second in command.

This was it. This was how you died. Felix was easily the best fighter on the island and no stranger to bloodshed or death. He’d cut you down without breaking a sweat. Your life would end and no one would care. The boys would probably even celebrate for a moment.

Fine. If this was how things were going to go down then at least you could face it with bravery. You pulled yourself to your feet and collected your sword.

The boys backed away and it seemed as if the entire camp was watching you. Felix was handed a sword and then it began. You swung first. Felix easily dodged out of the way and disarmed you in the same motion. You stumbled but didn’t fall, your sword now in Felix’s grasp.

“No wonder you’re so bad at this,” Felix said, giving the sword a swish in the air, “This sword is much too big and heavy for someone of your stature. Not to mention it has a terrible balance. And what kind of technique was that? Your stance is weak, your footing clumsy, and your attack painfully obvious and slow. You’ve been here for months, how has none of this been addressed?”

Oh…

You had not been expecting that. Felix tossed your sword aside and grabbed one of the other boy’s swords. He swung it in the air a couple times before handing it to you. “Tell me how this one feels,”

“Better,” It was significantly less heavy than your old one and you even felt you understood what Felix said about balance. The handle was nearly in perfect balance with the blade itself.

“Good,” he got into a fighting stance and waited for you to do the same. “Alright, this is just sad. Your legs are too far apart, bring them in more and keep your toes facing towards your opponent. Keep your feet solid but be prepared to move.”

It hit you at that moment. Felix was helping you. He was explaining things and teaching you how to do better. He wasn’t just beating you up and calling you an idiot. He was actually helping! You wanted to cry out in thanks but kept your cool. You could thank him properly after.

The rest of training Felix helped improve your form and technique as well as teaching you how to properly block and parry attacks. The new sword helped immensely. You hadn’t noticed how much your old one sucked. You figured everyone’s must have been like that. Had the boys given you a ridiculously heavy sword on purpose? Those fuckers!

At the next training Felix helped you again. You even started getting some decent swings in. Soon enough you were holding your own. Sure Felix was going easy on you but you were still in the fight. Some of the boys that had pummeled you before even came over and fought you. In time you even started winning fights. It was exhilarating!

You had no idea why Felix was helping you. Surely he had better things to do but you were thankful nonetheless. You probably would have died weeks earlier if it wasn’t for him taking the time to actually show you how to fight.

One day you were fighting with one of the boys that had tormented you the longest. Your lessons with Felix had been paying off and you were rewarded with the boy stumbling and fumbling to keep up with you. You moved to disarm him when he kicked you square in the chest. The wind got knocked out of your lungs and you fell back. The boy wasn’t done yet and made to strike you while you were down. You rolled out of the way of a fatal blow he still managed to cut a long gash across your back.

“Hey!” you heard Felix shout and pulled the boy back, “What the hell was that?”

“Just breaking her in. Pirates don’t fight fair, she’s gonna have to learn that.”

“And how does she learn if you kill her?” Felix shoved him away. “Now fuck off.”

You crouched on the ground, pained tears falling from your eyes. Your back hurt so much!

“Damn,” Felix muttered as he knelt down next to you. He pulled at the tear in your shirt and you heard him mutter more obscenities. “We gotta get you stitched up. Do you think you can move?”

“Do I have to?”

“Unfortunately,” Felix helped you up. He took the scarf around his neck and held it to your back so to stop the bleeding. You wandered to a nearby creek and Felix let you settle back down. “I need to lift your shirt to look at the damage. Okay?”

“Okay,” you stayed still as he rolled the back of your shirt up to expose your injured back.

“Doesn’t look that deep,” he said, “That’s good. But it is long. I am going to need to stitch it up.”

“Gotta clean it out first.” He dunked his scarf in the clear creak and wrung the blood out of it. He dunked it again and brought it to your back as he cleaned the blood away. It stung.

After he was satisfied with that he pulled a needle and some thread from his pocket. “You just keep that on you?” You asked.

“I like to be prepared,” he shrugged, “Take a breath, steel yourself, this is going to hurt.”

The first jab of the needle into your skin made you wince and yelp out in pain. This was humiliating.

“Talk to me,” he said, “It’ll help keep your mind off the pain.”

“Don’t know what to talk about,” you said as he brought the needle through your skin once more, “Fuck that hurts.”

“Talk about anything, but don’t move too much.”

You wracked your brain for a topic but you could only think of one thing. “Felix,” you said quietly, “Why did you decide to help me?”

Felix was silent.

“You had to have had a reason. None of the boys were willing to help me but you were. Why?”

“I didn’t think it was fair,” he said, “They weren’t trying to help you train. They just wanted to beat you up. That didn’t sit right with me.”

“Thank you,” you said as you breathed through another stitch. “I was sure they were going to kill me if I didn’t learn how to defend myself soon.”

“They definitely would have.” Felix said rather bluntly, “Maybe even more so now that you’re actually capable of protecting yourself.”

“That’s comforting,” and here you had thought learning to defend yourself would lessen the threat on your life.

“That’s Neverland,” he sighed as he tied off the last stitch. “Now a little bit of this.” he smeared something cold and sticky across my stitches.

“What are you putting on me?” You tried to crane your head back to look. Felix grabbed the back of your head and pushed it back to the front.

“Honey. It acts as a natural healing barrier so no infection can get in. Adhere this bandage so it stays in place and doesn’t stick to your clothes and you are all better.” he rolled your shirt back down. “Take it easy for the rest of the day and try not to tear your stitches.”

“I didn’t know you were such an accomplished healer.” you stretched a bit as you sat back up, careful to mind the tender stitches in your back.

“Well, when you get into as many scrapes as we do you learn how to treat your injuries. I always keep a few things in my satchel for cases like this.”

“Do you do this for all the boys?”

“No. Just you.” he said.

Your face flushed and Felix wouldn’t meet your eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand. He looked up through the fringe of his dirty blonde hair, something unsure in his gaze. His shoulders tensed and he had gone still. With a small smile you squeezed his hand tighter, affectionately, “Thanks again for helping me, Felix. You kind of saved my life.”

You went to withdraw your hand but he turned it over and squeezed it back, keeping you connected. His gaze was drawn to your interlocked hands and he spoke quietly. “If you ever need help again…I’ll be around.”

You threaded your fingers through his and tugged him just the tiniest bit closer. “My hero,”

He scoffed and shook his head. An incredulous smile brightening his face, “Sure, Lost Girl, I can be that for you.”

---

(Part 2)

[nat-seal-well]

who wants a preview of the writer’s extremely, shamefully self-indulgent vent comfort fic? no one, probably. i’m sorry.

it’s the end of it because everything else is straight-up too intense for sharing out of context so y’all can rest easy bc it ends on a good note

TW: very, very explicit descriptions of depression, suicidal ideation, and self-harm.

Huxley’s hand is cupping the back of their head, effectively holding them in place. Freelancer doesn’t stand a chance of escape. Breaking free is a fleeting thought, barely even a consideration. Once they’re aware of his arms around them and the feeling of being held, Freelancer melts into it. They grab at the back of his shirt with both hands to get as close as they possibly can, and then the tears start to flow for real. They didn’t even realize the dam was really breaking until now.

Freelancer cries—sobs, really. It’s loud and it’s shoulder-racking and a couple times Huxley has to remind them to breathe. It’s the product of the years of fighting with themself that they’ve built brick walls around and effectively forgotten about. Until tonight. They cry for the child who needed help and never got it, who got pushed aside instead and made to feel terrible for needing someone to see them, for the teenager who took on more than they should ever have had to, and for the eighteen-year-old them who was in such a dark place they never thought it was possible to hang on through the night. They cry for the person they are now, too, who’s foundering in the middle of the ocean and drowning and lost.

He holds them the entire time.

Freelancer doesn’t know how long it lasts. But by the time they’re out of tears to shed, their head is on his shoulder and they’re too exhausted to want to move. Their eyes will be swollen tomorrow. Freelancer can already tell.

“Thank you for talking to me, dude.” Huxley says then, softly. One of his hands is rubbing their back, slow motions between their shoulders. “I-I know that wasn’t easy.”

Freelancer wants to say “sorry.” It’s instinct, and the word is right there on their tongue before they even realize it. But they swallow the apology down. It’s not the right thing to say right now.

Huxley keeps going. “I think… I might stay here tonight. If you don’t mind, I mean. I-it just doesn’t feel right to leave you alone after… all of that.”

“Don’t mind,” Freelancer mumbles. Words are difficult.

“Cool. Thanks, dude. Uh… also, I think we should probably do something about… these.” He taps their thigh lightly, barely making any contact and purposefully avoiding the lacerations. “Get them cleaned up and bandaged. And maybe get something to eat. We—we can just chill the rest of the night. Watch a movie, or something.”

“...Okay. Sounds nice.” Freelancer’s voice sounds so small. It’s unnatural, even to them.

Huxley sighs, like he’s relieved. “Thank you, bro. For real. I-I’m glad you told me everything. It means a lot, that you trust me enough to let me in, y’know? And—and I’m glad you’re still here. My life wouldn’t be nearly as great as it is if you hadn’t run into me on accident that first day.”

They laugh. Just a little. It bubbles up in Freelancer’s chest before they can stop it. “T-thanks. For listening. And… everything.” It means more to them than they have the words for right now.

The two of them stay like that for a little longer. Freelancer breathes the scent of him in as the burning across their thighs starts to fade, just barely. And they dare to entertain the thought of how it would feel to live a life where they think about tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. Freelancer’s never considered the possibility of having a future before.

They wonder what it’ll be like.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Three Little Changes (Part 1)

Summary: While teaching Azula to swim, Katara is attacked by a shark that leaves her with a permanent injury. She fears that she won't be able to continue those lessons, let alone surf again.

Notes: Updates may or may not be slow in July due to art fight.

It is like thunder in her ears, a horrible, savage roar. She looks up and sees the sun, but it grows distant. She feels scales against her skin. The fish pay her no mind at all and she doesn’t mean to focus on them, not when she should be thinking of the glimmering that is growing further still.

She reaches her hands out and grasps at bubbles. Bubbles that carry her final, desperate breaths away from her. 

The waters aren’t quite so turbulent when she isn’t treading the waves alone. 

When a hand takes her arm and guides it through the motion of a simple stroke. And then that hand takes the other arm. Katara walks both of her arms through elegant little arcs. 

“Do you think that you have this motion down?” Katara asks. 

Azula nods. 

“Great, now lets see you actually swim. And remember…”

“I have to kick while pulling.”

Frankly she still feels silly, pathetic. She knows that she should have learned how to do this years ago. But father has kept she and Zuko well away from the coastline since that day several summers ago. 

“I’ll be walking alongside you.”

“You better.” Lest she have to drag a waterlogged body down the length of the beach. 

Sand and pebbles burn her cuts; she thinks that she had managed to find herself in a coral reef. The whole left side of her leg is a mess and her foot…she can’t look at her foot. She is lucky that she has all five toes.

She is too heavy for Zuzu to carry any further. He has cuts of his own. His little six year old legs are about to give out, she can tell. 

And she feels terrible for him; he knows that he was supposed to be watching her, it is written all over his face.

Mother and father rush down the beach.

She remembers clouds of sand and the sound of waves. 

Water rushes past her ears when she finally puts her face under the salty water for the first time in ten years. She’d be lying if she said that there wasn’t a tickle in her tummy. Even if Katara has one arm holding her afloat by the belly and the other holding her steady by the back. 

Azula does her best to replicate the strokes she had just practiced while standing vertically. It is different now that she is horizontal–now that her face is beneath the surface. But she is making good progress–years of volleyball give her arms and legs a useful pump of power. 

Katara slowly withdraws her hold, leaving her with a flicker of dread that she coaxes away upon seeing the other girl’s legs. Her feet kick up small rings of sand as she trails alongside. Every now and then, she turns her head just enough to steal a breath. 

This time she hasn’t lifted her head enough and she swallows a good briny gulp. Azula brings her stroke work to an abrupt stop and lifts her head from the water. She stoops over sputtering and coughing, her throat burns and her tongue stings. Her eyes water and she spares Katara a distraught glance. 

“You’ll be fine.” Katara assures her. “You only swallowed a little bit, that’s not all that uncommon. But it does sting a little, especially if you get water up your nose too.” 

“I don’t like it.” 

Katara laughs. “You really haven’t been in a pool or the ocean since the accident, have you?”

She shakes her head. “As much as I enjoy watching you surf and Sokka swim, I prefer to stick to land sports.” She shrugs. “And bathtubs.” Although she very vastly prefers showers too. 

“Well I’m glad that you decided to get out of your comfort zone.” Katara smiles. “You did really good today.” 

But watching the others–Chan, Jet, and Suki mostly–she feels ridiculous. She belongs in the kiddy pool with Tom-Tom. 

“Trust me, you’ll be swimming really well in no time.”

It sure doesn’t feel like it, but she nods anyhow.”

.oOo.

Katara accepted three changes in her life and only three.

Summer days rise with brilliant golds and a simmering haze in the air. They carry out with endless blue skies and puffy clouds that bring merciful shade just when the sun's rays get too intense. They carry out with steel drum bands and the sound of waves pummeling the sand. And they close in flares of brilliant oranges and pinks and bursts of fireflies dancing in the palm fronds amid strands of lights.

What need has she for change when the world is just fine the way it is now, with saltwater on her tongue and the sun warming the back of her neck as it sets in vibrant shades of orange and pink. With the scent of sunscreen lingering in her nose. 

Azula arches her back and dips her head down just far enough to wet her silky hair a final time. Katara imagines that she is decently sore. She has worked particularly hard today. Even still, she doesn't swim out much deeper than she is currently.

"Are you ready to call it a night?" Katara asks.

Azula nods, "we'll resume tomorrow." She slicks her hair back and Katara spies familiar clusters of jagged scars. They run from the right side of her forehead and curve down to her ear. They create fault lines on her legs and spot her feet like lines on a road map. With the tilt of her head the sun shimmers over them. Beads of ocean water glimmer upon her cheek.

Katara remembers how persistently she had fought to keep those scars concealed–particularly the ones on her forehead. Without much thought she reaches out and brushes her fingers over the scars. 

Azula’s lips part but before she can say a thing, Katara kisses them. She curls her fingers into Azula’s tresses and kisses her a second time, longer. The taste of Azula on her tongue has long since grown familiar. 

“Are you sure that you don’t want to swim just a little longer? We still have time before dark.”

Azula gives a soft little hum. Katara sees it in her eyes; the desire is there. Genuinely so. Katara is inclined to say that every inch of Azula’s soul, every fiber of her being longs to say yes, to extend the moment for as long as she can. But instead she replies, “I’m sure, Katara.” She still can’t quite put the past behind her. 

Katara has to admit that she doesn’t understand it. Not from Azula, powerful and impeccable Azula. But she supposes that the girl ought to have some fears and weakness of her own just like everyone ought to. 

“Alright, tomorrow sounds good to me then. Maybe we can go grab icecream or popsicles afterwards?”

Azula squeezes her hair dry. “I would enjoy a date to the boardwalk.” She seems to look off and into the sunset. 

Katara’s father always warned her that life was like the waves that she loved so much--unpredictable and unrelenting. That sometimes she’d be hard pressed to keep her head above the water but the waves keep coming. And then in the next hour they’d gently caress her cheeks as though they hadn’t tried to drag her under. “The tides change, Katara. And so will you.” He’d ruffled her hair and chuckled as though he hadn’t just handed her the most devastating news she’d ever heard. 

But here, now, in the water--in her saltwater dream she can’t even fathom change. 

[witch-hazels-musings]

i dunno if requests are still open but if they are, could i request this? if not, feel free to delete! but in case they are open here's the request: jean, beidou, and ganyu reacting to accidentally hurting their s/o? it could be anything from simple slap in the face while turning around or hurting them with their vision/weapon :]

Accidents 

(ouchie -- having them accidentally hurt the reader T.T -- they didn’t mean too!) 

Warning -> SFW, accidental injury (Character -> Reader)(face injury (Jean)), (meantions of cuts to face / arms (Ganyu)), (hit by rope (Beidou))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Beidou, Jean, Ganyu 

Beidou

She takes pride in keeping everyone on her crew safe, no matter the danger - on sea or land, she will fight and guard each person in her charge -- you are no exception and in fact, you are probably the one she fights the hardest for. The thought of seeing you hurt doesn’t sit well with her and, if she can control it, she’d never let it happen 

How could she have known that she’d be the one to cause you discomfort -- that she’d end up allowing you to get hurt because she let something slip through her fingers … pride was a strong emotion, but guilt could send a pirate to the bottom of the ocean 

The weather had made a sudden turn for the worst. Dark clouds rolled overhead as the crew furled the sales to protect them from the downpour that was bound to arrive any second now. 

“Captain!” Beidou’s attention shifted to the crow's nest, her scout pointing violently toward a massive cumulus cloud in the distance. She knew it was bound to smash right them if they maintained this heading, so in an effort to avoid it, she ran toward the bow barking orders. 

“Tack to starboard! Finnick,” She turned to point at the several crew waiting on the foredeck, “raise the spinnaker, now.” They quickly bustled to their jobs while she found herself at the head of the boat. Her arms crossed as she oversaw the work of her crew; great pride swelling in her chest to see how organized they were even without her voice like a well-oiled machine everyone did their part.

As the creaking boat turned, heading parallel now to the storm, Beidou hoped that it would stay on its heading so the Crux wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of its onslaught. It was now a waiting game, but if she knew anything about the ocean - it would be a win for her today. 

Just then, a rope tying one of the many large sails snapped. Its reaction was like a domino effect and soon all hands were rushing to stop a potentially catastrophic outcome. Leaping over the railing, she landed hard onto the deck below, her feet finding solid ground long enough for her to push forward and, before the other crew had a chance to react, she was already climbing the mainmast as if it were a simple tree. It took her no time at all to reach the issue but the strong winds continued to whip around the ropes below her and by the time she managed to capture them - her eyes fell onto your frame. 

In terrible slow motion, she watched as you reached for the rope only to have it collide into your chest and knock you back into another crew member. Her heart sank, her arms burned, her determination steadfast as she made quick work of the problem before dropping back down to you. 

“Are you alright?” Someone called, their hands reaching to you as if to offer some assistance but Beidou knocked them away. Orders were told, tasks were assigned, and before you could object, she carried you into her quarters. 

When the door closed and she sat you on her bed, you could already tell how upset she was. “Beidou -- it was an accident, I didn’t have good footing and …” She uncrossed your arms, you didn’t even realize that you were holding onto your chest. Carefully peeling back your tunic, she noticed the welt that was starting to grow in the area below your collarbone. With a huff, she walked away before returning with a cloth. “You’re being silly, it’s not that ba-AD!” You shouted, the cold material shocking you as it came into contact with your burning injury. 

“This could have been much worse. You’re lucky it only bruised the surface.” Sitting next to you, she rested her knee near your lower back, and the warmth of her leg as she moved close to you somehow offset the ice on your chest. 

“I’m just upset I didn’t grab it, it was right there and then … ah - that’s sore.” She tested your shoulder, pushing against it with her palm and shaking her head at the notion that you were going to have a painful recovery. 

“You are a member of this crew and I have sworn an oath to protect you, but …” Her head dropped and she found it hard to continue. 'How could I let this happen' was written all over her expression. 

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. You’re an excellent captain.” 

“A captain keeps her ship on course, its belly full, and its crew happy. How can I do that when my happiness is your wellbeing?” Her fingers ran over your ear, slipping in between the locks of your hair as if to show you how much she cherished you. Carefully, she leaned toward you, her lips connecting softly onto your shoulder as they trailed a path to your injury and even in the numbness of it you were still able to feel the heat from her love. “If you are ever out of your depth, allow me to be your lifeline.” 

“Of course, as long as you trust me to know when I'm there.” 

“Within reason.” As the boat rocked on the sea and the sky rumbled far into the distance, you captured the steady heart of the captain.  

Jean 

Jean would never intentionally harm you, the thought of putting someone innocent in danger makes her sick - as the acting Grandmaster she has a sworn duty to protect everyone around her from those who would do them harm 

So when she's the one who caused your injury, she's beside herself with regret 

She stood in her office, her back to the door as she let her mind wander on all the things that needed to be done. It was never-ending, and while she was always fulfilled by the products of her work, she often pushed herself so far that her body and mind became clouded. 

Today was one of those days. The work, planning, problem-solving was weighing on her. There is never enough time, she thought to herself as she rested her head in her hand and squeezed tighter around her rib cage. She was distracted, so exhausted that her ears felt blocked, her body swayed even though she knew she wasn't moving, and her head throbbed. 

"Jean ..." What needed to be done first, she pinched her nose and through harder. "Jean?" She sighed and attempted to stop the voices in her head. 

"Jean, hey?" A hand touched her arm and in her daze, she turned suddenly. Her hand was further from her face than she expected and with a solid smack, she hit something. 

"Ah!" Your startled voice shook her back to understanding, your expression and hand now covering your face sent her heart in the pit of her stomach. 

"Y/N? I'm so sorry ..." She rested her hand on your arm and shakily reached for your face, her fingers tenderly touching the ones that hid you from her pained eyes. "I didn't -- are you badly hurt?" 

"Ouch, you got me really good." You explained, scrunching and circling your nose but allowing her to take your hand. 

"My mind was elsewhere, I am ... I'm sorry." She ran her hands over your face, the warm feeling of wind slipping from her fingers and soon your expression eased. 

"Thanks, It was an accident, don't worry." 

"An accident like this should have never occurred, it is unbecoming of me to allow myself to falter." She stepped away from you, afraid that any prolonged contact would make it worse.

"Jean, you're allowed to make mistakes, and look - I'm fine, see." You grinned proudly but she couldn't let it go. 

"I need to make amends." 

"Mmm, well then, I have an idea." 

"What is it?" She looked at you hopeful, her eyes watching you as you stepped closer. 

"I'll take a kiss as an apology." You tapped the side of your cheek and presented it to her. 

With hesitating hands, she rested her fingers on the other side of your cheek and let her lips touch the skin she hurt, "I will be more observant in the future." 

You turned your head, your face so close you could feel her breath, "I don't see how that's possible, but if it means I get to have more of your attention, I'll be okay with that." 

You kissed her and wondered if she was able to heal through her lips. 

Ganyu 

The absolute sweetest soul in all of Teyvat. She cares deeply for all things, works hard to get the job done, and is dedicated in her actions - it's one reason why her contract with Rex Lapis was drafted; she is the epitome of ____ 

She would never maliciously hurt those around her and often puts herself in harm's way to keep others safe

To her, causing harm to someone she adores, loves, cherishes would be as severe as breaking her contract 

The two of you ran through the field, your legs burning as you dashed across the landscape and away from your persistent pursuers. 

"Ganyu! Up ahead!" You shouted, pointing to the higher ground and dashing in that direction. She followed, keeping an eye out on the enemies behind. To buy some time, she laid down her tantalizing cryo flower before picking up her pace to reach you. 

"From here we can handle them more easily, just be ready." She nodded her head and pulled back her bow, ready to strike. 

The fight was far more doable in this arena, each enemy falling one after another as the two of you fought in perfect sync. Charging her shot, she saw the ideal opportunity to hit multiple targets at once, but as soon as her arrow flew so did you. 

"Y/N!" She shouted but you were too far away and, as soon as you reached them, prepping your sword for a swing, the arrow exploded hitting everything in its path. You yelled, sliding on the ground only to slam hard into the dusty surface. In an instant, everything that Ganyu was, and wasn't, aiming for fell. 

Rushing forward, she reached you and quickly assessed your condition. Her hands hovering, her eyes scanning only to find the damage she had caused. Several small cuts appeared on your face, your arms were equally damaged and the despair that filled her was so great she prostrated herself before you. Her head resting on your hips as she bowed deeply. 

"Ga-Ganyu? What are you doing?" You asked, setting your sword to the side as you looked down at her. 

"I hurt you, please forgive me." You tried to pull her up but she shook her head and dug in deeper into her display. 

"It was an accident, I wasn't looking and that was a good shot. I'm not hurt." 

"You are!" She shot up, her eyes looking at the marks that she had created on your skin. "It was my fault that you have -- if-if they leave a scar ... I ..." She shook her head, unable to finish her thought. 

"Ganyu ... they won't leave a scar, and even if they did, don't you think I'd look super cool?" You smiled but she hated it. 

"It's not acceptable ... if you'd like to d-dismantle our contract, I understa-" 

You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing tightly as you spoke. "I don't want that, I'd never want that. I need you, please don't ever think I'd be okay if you weren't at my side." After a moment, she returned the gesture and you felt the pressure of her nose dig into your neck. When she finally pulled away, you let your hands slide down her arms and rest into her delicate hands.

"I'll just have to practice harder." She nodded fiercely as she helped you stand up. 

"If you insist." You laughed, thinking to yourself when she would ever find the time to do that. 

--

tag list:

@clemmywrites @sufzku @plenilunegazes @lucacandy @marianadibenea @nonniechan @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @excitedlysuffering

[miyagihawk]

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Cobra Kai oneshot or head cannon where the reader is dating one of the boys and instead of Miguel falling during the fight it was the reader?❤️”

hiiii thank you for the request! this one’s gonna be a miguel one :)

should’ve been me | miguel diaz x reader

warnings: not much, just a bit of swearing i think. reader is in a coma???

summary: miguel is your boyfriend and you’re the one who fell during the school fight

Maybe you should’ve just stayed out of it. You don’t know one thing about fighting. But how could you just stand and watch your boyfriend getting punched over and over again?

It turned out to be the worst decision you’ve ever made: trying to pull Robby off of Miguel.

Because they were both too angry to see it was all going too far.

Because Robby didn’t think that much about pushing you away; he was too focused on delivering punches.

Because the railing was just too close.

It was all slow motion. Miguel running to the edge, yelling your name. Screams and gasps coming from the students who were watching.

All you could see was Miguel, the boy you love, looking down at you as you fell through the air. It felt like you were falling for a lifetime with your eyes locked on his, until you met the ground and everything turned black.

There was only the sound of Miguel’s steps ringing through the hall as he ran down the stairs towards your body. He kneeled down beside you, his heart breaking when he saw the peaceful expression on your face.

“Y/N? No, no, no. No, wake up, Y/N. Please, I’m sorry,” he touched your face, and his tears were falling down on you.

He cried out in heartbreak at the sight of you so lifeless, with no care of everyone watching. The paramedics had to carry him away from you as they laid you on the stretcher.

-

Your muscles ached and you felt as if your legs would give out any moment. The sky was an apocalyptic red in the lonely desert you were in, and even though you couldn’t see the sun, you could still feel its treacherous heat.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking through this desert, but you were losing hope with every step you took. You must’ve been trudging on for hundred of miles, but everything around you looked the same; you can’t help but wonder if you were even moving at all.

The only thing that kept you going was his voice and the light.

Miguel.

He sounded sad. And when you kept going, it’s as if you heard him clearer. Once you heard him start to talk, you ran. Even if everything hurt, you ran, because you seemed to hear him better when you went towards the light in front of you. You pushed until you couldn’t breathe, collapsing on the dry sand, but feeling close to him was worth it.

“I’m sorry,” he would cry. “It should’ve been me, Y/N. This is my fault. What do I do without you? If you can hear me, please wake up. Don’t give up okay? I love you so much.”

“I love you!” you would try to yell back, but your voice was gone.

It was an endless torture, following the light, and the only thing that kept you going was the hope of seeing Miguel again.

-

You didn’t know when you fell asleep; perhaps you passed out from exhaustion. But you woke up in a different world.

The vicious red clouds above you were starting to float away, revealing a clear blue sky. The dead air was gone, and you could feel a fresh breeze blow through your hair.

The light. It was right in front of you. So close you could reach out and touch it.

“I love you, Y/N,” you heard Miguel’s voice ring through your ears as you stepped through to the unknown.

You gasped, your eyes shooting open as you took in your new surroundings. A white bright light made you flinch and there were tubes attached to your arms. There was a beeping noise piercing your ears and dozens of bouquets in vases were placed on the blue floor, leaving a strong floral scent in the air.

You felt yourself starting to breathe frantically, realizing that you were in the hospital and that you just came from your worst nightmare. 

You felt your hand being grabbed and you pulled away in fright. “You’re awake,” the person said from beside you, making you turn your head towards them.

It was him. Miguel. The one thing you held onto.

He looked so different. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was longer than it’s ever been. He just looked so tired, and it made you panic, because you wondered how long you’ve even been out.

Your eyes watered as you threw your arms around him. After feeling so lonely in the coma, you dreamed of holding him. The both of you cried in each other’s arms with endless worry about the other, but you were so happy to just see him after the hell you just went through.

“I love you. I heard everything you said and it was what kept me going. It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not,” you spoke, grasping him tighter. He was crying too, and you’ve never seen him this emotional; it broke your heart.

He shook his head, “It was, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I-I really thought I lost you, and it would’ve been on me. This whole Cobra Kai thing was-”

“Just stop, okay? It was an accident, don’t do that to yourself. I’m fine,” you cut him off, pulling away from the hug to wipe your tears. Your back was starting to hurt and it sent you painful flashbacks of the fall, making you wince at the memory.

Nurses started flooding into the room along with your parents, and Miguel had to leave.

“So how long was I out?” you asked the nurse who was checking your vitals. You were scared to face the question, if you were being honest. Because you had no idea what the answer was.

“Three months, honey,” she answered softly. You blinked away the tears that wanted to surface at her response.

Three whole months. You were gone. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but missing a piece of your life, even if it’s small, felt terrible. Because your family worried about you for three months. Because Miguel worried and your friends worried and now you probably can’t walk normally and-

The more you thought about everything, the more you felt like throwing up from anxiety.

As if the nurse could sense your stress, she talked to you, “You see those flowers?”

She gestured over to the crazy amount of bouquets that were on the floor because they couldn’t fit on the table anymore. You nodded in response while she took your blood pressure. Her presence was very calming, and she had a wise energy around her that put you at ease.

“He brought you some every single time he visited. Poor Albert at the flower shop downstairs is probably sick of him,” she joked. “You are very loved.”

She didn’t even need to say his name for you to know who she was talking about. You felt yourself smiling at the sweet gesture, looking at the range of flowers. Most of them were your favorite color and some were his. But there were every kind; you told him that you don’t have a favorite flower because they’re all pretty.

“Did you feel anything?” the nurse asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “While you were... out,” she clarified.

“Uh... no. I didn’t,” you answered, still puzzled.

She gently touched your forehead with the tip of her finger. “He left you so many kisses. Right here. And you said you didn’t feel it but I know you did, because you’re awake. I’ve treated patients like you for many years, and as cheesy as it sounds, love is the best medicine. You got a good one sweetheart,” she smiled softly at you.

“I did,” you agreed, looking through the small window of the door to see where Miguel stood waiting with your parents. You caught his eye, feeling warm when he gave you a happy grin.

Everything going wrong only showed you that he was the one, and even a coma couldn’t separate you.

A/N: this was a mess i am so sorry my writing is ass lately i just don’t know why :/