#most of it died down last night so this is kind of like speaking into dead air now but you get my point

[st4rstudent]

Ok the fandom wiki is back to normal as of earlier, so if you accidentally stumble upon it, it'll be fine.

However please make sure to keep using the New and Improved Wiki, which is not only easier to navigate and is more pleasant, but also the new preferred wiki. (Not only to mention the various issues that Fandom wiki has). Bookmark it or something if you need to.

As future reference, it should be noted that vandalism on the fandom wiki will not help take the wiki down due to fandom's policy, despite previous otherwise thoughts (myself included) and the continuous vandalism only brings traction to it. As well as, mentioning the new wiki will have the possibility to demote and ban the current mods of the fandom wiki.

As silly as the entire thing was, please make sure to use the new wiki and refrain from going back to the old one. Especially since last night made the fandom wiki get a lot of traction.

As a reminder, here are some extensions you can use to help avoid using the fandom wiki: 1 (redirector) 2 (wiki.gg redirector) 3 (wiki indie buddy)

and here's the reddit post about it

[bunicate]

rambling abt diluc’s relationship with his sister from the maid, adelinde’s pov ♡ im pretti sure dis was an ask I received on my old blog too ! !

adelinde didn’t have much expected of her besides her daily cleanings and the occasional rotation of taking out the trash, but recently she’s been burdened with the task of looking after you.

you’re a troublesome girl to tend to.

she would never say it out loud or let her feelings show, but master diluc had you spoiled rotten. you were the only one allowed to disturb him in his study and demand the most menial things for the sake of his attention. 

you're often half-naked and oversleeping when you weren't bothering him.

she frequently dresses you, and brushes your hair so you could look presentable in front of your brother, and you would insist on only the shortest dresses and skirts. or flat out refuse to have your blouse buttoned all the way. she wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn, but your bosom was nearly visible at all times. 

she doesn’t acknowledge her master's subtle glances towards the swell of your chest, or his hand that rests too closely to your bottom.

you both were closer than most siblings. that she knows, the other maids all witnessed it but wouldn’t speak of it lest their master would catch them.

it was an enjoyable job, and it would be a shame to lose it because diluc caught their loose lips flapping away.

adelinde was quick to regard the interactions as siblings who simply cherished each other.

although you’re a handful, you’re also sweet and thoughtful, and she could see why diluc treated you as such. she often helps you clean up your messes from making strawberry tarts, and other little gifts that you give diluc. by the end of the day, you’d be exhausted, and each time she’d lay a blanket over your slumbering body when you waited up late for diluc.

she’d watch you until she’s interrupted by her master's arrival. 

“thank you, adelinde. you may go for the night. i’ll take care of her from here,” he’d say.

like routine, she’d bow.

“well then. goodnight master diluc.”

she would watch him slowly collect your body within his grasp, gentle enough not to disturb you from slumber. 

he’d pull back the hair that obstructs your face and adelinde could never forget the look of utter tenderness that seeped into his visage.

a certain kind of love unbinds the furrow of his brow and eases the tension in his broad shoulders. his figure would then disappear into your room, and that would be the last she saw of you both for the night. 

the next day when adelinde knocks on your door to come in, and you’re already awake.

your pajamas are revealing as always. a skimpy underwear and a strapless cotton top. your hair covers it, but she makes out the bruise on your neck, and she ignores it.

she tries not to appear uncomfortable when you walk downstairs in the same attire and diluc don't even seem phased. he just puts you on the kitchen counter, feeding you blueberries for breakfast.

touches and the palatable air isn’t enough to jump to conclusions, but she supposes she no longer had a choice anymore when she mistakenly walks into the living room and witnesses such a sweltering kiss.

her master trails his hands on the cheeks of your butt, groping the flesh while he buried his tongue in your mouth. 

adelinde is stunned at the sight. her master was kissing his little sister. 

a sensation she’s unfamiliar with runs down her body. his tongue is so much larger than yours, wrapping around your smaller one, swallowing your breathy cries. his hands cup your face, and it’s then she realizes how large those gloved fingers really are.

carefully, she watches them trail downwards, slipping into his pants to pull out his thickening and leaky member. 

adelinde , felt fear and a tinge of arousal.

he was going to insert his cock between your folds. your pretty silken folds, that sweltered with lust. his dick was hard and angry, and your body looked too perfect — too delicate to be touched.

adelinde licked her lips as diluc entered inside of you. your back arches and your tits jiggle from the comedown of his hips. he fucks into you at a rapid pace, and the sound of wetness on his cock destabilizes the maid's ability to react appropriately.

the moistness is audible between the slaps of skin and the loud cries.

the sheets darken with sweat and cum. your skin is bitten and then kissed, and your moans reverberate in the same room.

the air is hot and sticky and adelinde feels a knot in her belly. she quickly darts out into the corridor and begins to dread the following day. anxiety pricks at her skin at the fear of facing you both once more.

she knows that she’ll have to clean you up in the morning and face the dark truth about her master and his younger sister.

[tragedybunny]

Hey there, saw you were so short requests for Astarion. I'll make it short and simple for ideas. How about either; autistic-coded, plus size or shorter! Tav relationship with Astarion headcanon ideas?

Thanks for the ask. I decided to go with autistic Tav since I actually have an idea for a plus size Tav rolling around my idea doc.

Astarion x Autistic GN!Reader Headcanons

Astarion is so pretty, he intimidates you. You’ve always been an outsider, and the people that put you down the most are always the pretty, perfect, definitely not weird people. 

Despite this, you start to find him nice enough, even letting him feed on you. 

When Astarion starts flirting with you, you absolutely do not notice, much to his frustration.

When he eventually bluntly asks you for sex, it makes you so sad. Being the town oddball, you’re used to being propositioned as a joke. You quietly turn him down and decide Astarion isn’t your friend after all. 

You keep feeding him though when he needs it. Mostly because you’re not sure how to tell him about how it made you feel.

Astarion is stunned you turned him down, sure you haven’t been responsive to his flirting, but you get along well enough. And he’s afraid, you need to be on his side since everyone looks up to you. 

He tries to flirt a few more times, but he finds it hurts a little more each time you don’t reciprocate. Even worse, he starts thinking about how nice it would be if you did, even if it was just a smile thrown his way. 

It’s so confusing, he stops even feeding from you, worried one night he’ll ask to just stay, to be allowed to even be in your presence for a few hours. 

You’re always so quiet and reserved around him, but he starts to notice how there’s certain people you just bloom around. Karlach for example, you seem to have no problem chatting the large Tiefling’s ear off. 

It would seem you just don’t like him. 

One day the two of you are rummaging through a ruined house and end up in an old library. A shout from you makes him turn and ask if you’re alright. 

You explain you’re excited because you found a book from this series you love. It’s these biographies of old nobles, heroes, etc., fictionalized but really fun. 

You’re smiling and your eyes are so bright. Astarion’s never seen anything so beautiful. 

Then it all dies in an instant. “I’m sorry, this is silly. I’m probably bothering you.” 

Astarion wants to gut every person who ever made you feel that way. And he can tell there were many. 

He hurries to assure you that you are not boring him, and this is not silly. 

With a little prodding, you continue until the sound of Gnolls in the distance makes you both realize it’s time to go. 

At the last second, he recalls he saw the author’s name in another pile that had fallen from the shelf. He plucks it out and hands it to you. “Now you have two.”

That night, you shyly turn up at his tent, asking if he’d like to borrow one. 

At this point, he’d read a book Gale wrote on Tressyms just to talk with you about it. 

“If you’ll stay and read with me.” He’s shocked you agree.

It’s becomes a ritual, you read together at night, and talk about it on the road during the day. 

You’re finally all bright and cheerful with him, and it takes his breath away. 

One night, he can’t resist and leans in to steal a kiss while you’re chatting. 

You’re stunned. Normally you’d think he was making fun of you again, but now that you’ve gotten closer, it’s just confusing.

You finally have the courage to ask, and Astarion confesses how long he’s liked you. 

You’re overwhelmed and take a while to speak, making Astarion afraid he’s just ruined everything.

When you do, everything spills out, as you hurriedly explain why you kept your distance. 

Astarion really can’t believe that a kind, gorgeous person like yourself was some sort of strange outcast. But he is a Vampire so maybe he’s skewed. 

The two of you take things slow, you don’t exactly have much experience in romance. 

Which is nice, it let’s Astarion figure himself out a bit more. 

He realizes that sometimes you get in over your head in social situations, and he’s always there to back you up or take over.

The first time you had a meltdown, you were both scared, Astarion that he'd caused it somehow and you that he'd see how abnormal you were.

Afterwards, he starts to open up more about disassociating and his nightmares.

You learn how to take care of each other when these things happen. 

Astarion will admit he doesn't always follow the thought process that's going on in that lovely head of yours, but it makes you even more fascinating, not frustrating like you worry. 

You call yourself strange and again he reminds you he's a literal blood sucking, undead, creature of the night. Who's the strange one? 

When you talk about something you're passionate about, you're amazing to watch. 

Astarion doesn't come with ingrained expectations you can never meet. He just wants you to be you. 

You've never felt more comfortable and safe around anyone. 

Astarion often threatens to head back to your hometown to teach a few people a lesson. You tell him it doesn't matter anymore, you're so happy right now, today 

The two of you argue constantly about who's luckier to have ended up in this relationship. But it feels like you were made to be together. 

Tag list, to be added comment or dm me

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess

@lumienyx @elora-the-slutty-songstress

@astariongf @satanicspinosaurus @lisrelly

[senualothbrok]

Love and beauty

Summary: A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Musings on beauty, love and death.

Word count: 1.3k

Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Non-ascended Astarion. References to bereavement.

AO3 link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are lying on your side, looking at Astarion.  Here at the Elfsong Tavern, morning is rousing from its slumber. You are cocooned in the bed you have shared with him since the night he took you to his grave. The sheets are warm and soft beneath you, and in their burgundy shadows, his skin glows like porcelain. He lies on his back, his silver eyelashes fanning out below his closed eyes like silk. His crown is a white maze of waves. Just recently you have noticed the faint threads which form around his mouth and eyes when he laughs, slight indents where his eyebrows meet his nose when he is focused. And sometimes, barely perceptible dimples dance on his cheeks.

You never tire of looking at him. There is always something new to see, and you never know how long you have left to see it.

“I can feel you staring at me.” A lazy eye opens and fixes on you. “Has no one ever told you that it’s rude to stare?”

There is mischief in his smile, and you return it. You run your fingers over his collarbone. He shifts his chin closer to your hand.

“I can’t help it.”

He stretches, long and languid, a fang peeking out on his lower lip.

“I know, darling.” He turns onto his side to face you. “It’s why you’re here. You can’t get enough of my devastating beauty.”

The words carry no edge. He is still himself, not the masked imitation. He twirls his fingers around a strand of your hair as it caresses your shoulder.

“You are devastatingly beautiful, it’s true.” You play with a curl at his temple, tracing the edge of his ear. You consider for a moment. “But you know, all of that… it only goes so far.”

“Oh?” He regards you quizzically.

“Well…” You turn the thoughts over in your mind. “I’m human, Astarion. Even humans blessed with devasting, soul-crushing beauty, like yours – most of us don’t live that long. We get old and grey. We get wrinkles.”

He scrunches his nose. You laugh.

“I know, disgusting, those wrinkles. But when you have to contend with ageing, and with death… it’s different.”

You are not sure he understands what you are saying. You yourself are not entirely sure.

You nuzzle your nose into his. He slides his arm under your head, circling it around your shoulder. You curl into his chest. There is a silence, but it is so light, like being bathed in morning sun.

Maybe it is because every day draws you closer to the Netherbrain. Or maybe it is because he has shown you where he died, and has shared with you his rebirth. Now, you feel the last bastion inside you can come down. This last pearl you have hidden from him, you can now give, trusting he will not cast it away.

“I had a husband once,” you say.

You have not spoken about him for a long time. It surprises you that it does not hurt anymore to mention him. To remember.

“It was a lifetime ago now. He was beautiful too, when we met. Though nowhere near as beautiful as you.” You brush your lips across Astarion’s skin. “He was smart. He had a way with words. And he was kind.”

You are relieved that Astarion does not say anything. He does not tense in shock or anger. There is no judgment. He only listens, holding you.

“He actually looked a lot like Gale. Sometimes when he speaks, Gale even sounds like him.”

Astarion bristles at this. “So you’re telling me that one of our travelling companions, one of our closest allies and friends, is the spitting image of the love of your life? And you’re telling me this, why?”

You are not entirely surprised by his reaction. And maybe you find it endearing that Astarion could feel even a prickling of jealousy about a man you loved and lost so long ago. You chuckle, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the curve of his jaw. He eases with a huff.

“This isn’t the point of my story.”

“Well, you best get to it soon,” he shoots back, but he does not pull back his embrace.

There is a softness, a playfulness, to his irritation. You nibble his ear lobe gently and he sighs. He waits. You go on.

“He was a lot older than me. When he got sick, I took care of him. He died in his sleep. I laid him to rest. By that point, he was an old man. And he’d lived a good life.”

You remember your husband’s face through a haze. His papery skin, so thin you could tear it by mere touch. Frosted hazel eyes, and snaking veins on hands that you clasped so tightly against your wet face after he had breathed his last. The years of love that had filled the hole he left, buoying you through the grief.

“There’s something about that kind of love. Through age, and sickness, and everything in between. The long and boring days. The petty arguments. The stupid things we joked about. Everything we shared together.”

You heart fills as you speak of him. There is no more sorrow when you think of him now, only gratitude.

“I loved him till the end. That kind of love - it went well beyond his beauty.”

Astarion is quiet and still for a long time. When he moves back to look at you, you cannot read his gaze.

“But I won’t age,” he says. “I won’t die.”

You nod.

“I’ll be like this forever.”

“Forever beautiful, forever young.” You glance at the scars and ripples of your flesh, and you cannot help but feel a pang of envy.

He frowns. In the pause that follows, you wonder where he has gone. You wish he could take you with him.

“How will I know, then?” he asks suddenly.

“Know what?”

“How will I know…” He struggles, as though each word is a heavy load. He clears his throat. “How will I know what kind of love it is?”

There is an emptiness in his eyes now, like a kind of sadness. A loss. You reach out and press your palm to his heart.

“Are you asking me whether I would still love you-“

“If I wasn’t beautiful.” He grimaces. “If I was old and grey, or sick, or…” He trails off briefly. “If I had wrinkles. Like Gale.”

You laugh, and you see that it gives him comfort. Because Astarion still cannot help but mask a plea with a jibe.

“What do you think?” you ask.

He hesitates. His eyes caress your face, drinking in every detail, every line and curve, every shadow and blemish. A balm spreads through you as he sees you, just as you see him, since the very first time you promised to be his mirror. You know he can see your answer.

But he is uncertain, and he is still afraid.

“Without a doubt, Astarion,” you breathe.

He turns away. You wait. It no longer weighs on you when he withdraws. You know now that he will always return. You will give him time, now. You will give him space. He will come back when he is ready.

But then, so abruptly, he clasps you against him. You are enveloped in the coolness of his skin, the warm wetness of his mouth, the blanket of his body around you. The moment is a world in itself, swirling and gathering and expanding, holding you fast.

It ends as it began. You lie there, tracing circles in each other’s souls. Morning has broken, and muffled voices are bustling through the bedroom walls. Slowly, you edge to the side of the bed, and he rises to join you.

“I don’t think he was the love of my life, by the way.” You say it like an afterthought, but it is not.

“I damn well hope not,” he counters, sharp and fast.

But the gentleness in his gaze tells you all you need to know.

---

Liked this fic? You can find more of my work here.

[peachy-wolfhard]

dating yuta okkotsu

a/n: wowzers more than one post a year??? also HAPPY BDAY YUTA LUB U BABYBOY

Warnings: swearing, sims death, yuta gets elbowed accidentally, a little angst

Word Count: 823

My literal bf

He's so in love

Heart eyes whenever someone even slightly mentions you

Yuta will be talking to someone and if they slightly mention something you like he starts rambling about how amazing you are and how much he loves you while blushing and borderline giggling and kicking his feet

He's so sticky too like anything you do he's right there like a shadow

Yuta is also really quiet when he is being your shadow so 99% of the time he ends up scaring you when you turn around 

One time after a mission, you're nerves were still on edge and Yuta just happened to walk behind you and ended up getting an elbow to the eye (Rika beat ur ass sorry)

Yuta isn't that big of a gamer himself but he LOVES to watch you play the sims, especially if you made you and him

Speaking of the Sims ! Whenever Yuta is away for missions you always update him about what's going on

hi yu! Update ab our sims…OUR SON DIED HE DIED IN A FIRE IM SO SAD!!!!!! BUT ITS OK WE CAN MAKE A NEW ONE ;) wink wink anyway we moved to a farm and ITS HAUNTED. ok bye bye baby ilysm MWAH

VOICE MESSAGES!! Yuta can't get enough of them he loves sending them to you and he loves when you send them

yuta

“Hi honey, I just saw a really cute cat that reminded me of you. I swear it looked almost one hundred percent like you, not even joking…ok i gotta go bye i love you!”

Facetimes are another thing that is pretty regular. Its either you walking around campus showing him to all your friends or him show you around wherever he is

“Yuta, look at these freaks. They’re going crazy without you here…me too honestly”

“I know I'm losing my mind not being around you guys but especially you.”

Another thing he loves is sending random pictures to each other

*picture of yuta being cute* 

y/n

OMG IM SOBBING MWAH MWAH IM GONNA EAT U I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND

*picture of you doing something*

yuta

Cries sobs screams throws up I MISS UUUUUUUUUU <333333 :333

ONE LAST THING

Yuta barely uses emojis, he's an emoticon boy :3

He always brings you presents back from wherever they send him

There's always a big dramatic reunion when he returns. Running into each other's arms, fake loud crying, one of you carrying the other (translation: you carrying Yuta) …the works

Nights after he gets home are very chill. Ordering take out and watching reality tv while just enjoying each other's company. Ending the night by cuddling each other to sleep

Yuta has a note in his notes app of EVERYTHING you like and dislike

Everytime you slightly mention something you like or dislike he makes a mental note to write it down

Even if he doesn't write something down, he memorized it. Remembers what kind of candy you like, what your favorite flowers are, your orders from take out and restaurants

While your guys relationship is lovely and amazing it does get hard sometimes with Yuta always being gone and you having missions and school

Going days without hearing from the other because the two of you are so stressed and busy then having to update each other all at once in one message then repeating the process

Trying to facetime each other but when he's in an entirely different timezone it's hard. You'll be almost asleep and his day is just starting

After a while it started to get to you, that your boyfriend was away for so long, you weren't able to see him, and when you were you had to prepare for him to leave just a few weeks after

Even though you were surrounded by your friends and teachers that love you, you felt so lonely

Finally you talked to him about it, about how all his traveling made you feel so alone and he agreed with you. That he too felt so alone (because most of the time he was) and that he just wanted to stay home for at least a year

Loves snuggling with you but only in private (Maki beat his ass)

Holds you so close at night to the point it feels like he's trying to get into your skin

Seems like the type to either wear minimal clothes to bed or pajama sets, no in between

Kicks the blankets off then curls up to you when he inevitably gets cold

Yes he's very sweet but he still likes to mess with you ESPECIALLY at night

His favorite thing to do is putting his cold hands or feet on you and asking “are my feet/hands cold”

ONE LAST THING

He 100% gets you guys those Lego roses so you can build them together

Overall he very much loves you and cant get enough of you

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (11) - Holding out for a Hero

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 5.1k

-Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat-

Wednesday woke up in a bed that was softer than her own, though not uncomfortable, something about it made her feel uneasy in a good way. And then the memories of her last waking moments came to her mind, and she couldn’t help but hide her face in the pillow.

Which wasn’t the right choice…

Her being in your bed only reminded her that you spent the storm last night outside. Well, in your shed, but she knew that was hardly the right protection from the storm for you.

She couldn’t even comprehend what possessed her to sleep in your bed, to blatantly ignore her allergy in favor of… whatever this was. It felt wrong, it felt like she was intruding on something, like she was forcing herself into a part of your life she had no business being in. That was how she felt.

She most certainly didn’t feel like she was trying to fill the void left by your absence.

So, she just remained there, after all, with you and Enid gone, she had nothing to worry about. No one else but her and Thing would know about this.

~X~

The damn rain was persistent. It’s been raining since last night and there were no signs it would stop anytime soon. Speaking of persistent, Enid was in your shed. She came to tell you the mayor died, but she stayed for other reasons…

“You have to go back to our room, Y/N! Look at you, you’re exhausted!” she exclaimed, worried and anxious for multiple reasons connected to you staying in the shed.

“Forget it,” yet you remained stubborn, lazily leaning back against your chair and throwing your head back. You really were exhausted. There were so many electronic devices in the shed and that was enough to make you even more on edge than you already were. One moment of weakness and you’d likely blow the entire shed up.

“Wednesday made a mistake, but you shouldn’t ruin all of your work over it!” Enid argued, throwing her hands down in frustration.

You narrowed your eyes at that. Wednesday… You cooled down, significantly, but you were still angry at her. Well, anger wasn’t quite the right word. “Why couldn’t she just take me with you? I could have done something,” you sighed, you were hurt, you were frightened by what could have happened. It was a similar feeling to seeing that person a few nights ago, only this time it wasn’t for you, but for Wednesday and Enid. Why couldn’t Wednesday just trust you to be able to help her?

“And put you in danger as well? Come on, Y/N, didn’t she do enough already?! She placed you in a bathtub filled with water!” Enid clearly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’ve done more than I did, you just accepted her right from the start and that’s how she responds?”

“Stop, Enid,” you closed your eyes, hoping she would get a hint and give up.

“I won’t stop, Wednesday doesn’t appreciate what either of us did for her,” she was hurt, she believed Wednesday didn’t care. In fact, you were willing to bet Enid was even more hurt by the fact Wednesday didn’t take you along than you were. To Enid it probably looked like Wednesday was more than willing to put her in danger while simultaneously making sure you weren’t in danger, at least the same kind of danger.

“And part of that is our fault as well. Yes, she’d cold, she doesn’t show her emotions and all that, but she’s honest. We both got exactly what she said she was, so you can either give up on being friends with her, or understand that’s how Wednesday works and accept it,” you’d accept it, but you just needed to get away from her for a few days so you could properly figure out what to do. You were trying to make sense of what you were feeling, because, whether you were willing to admit it or not, you knew you had it bad for the girl.

She was just… special. The way she accepted you, the way she wasn’t bothered by being seen with you in places that would imply a much more intimate relationship between you two, the way she wasn’t afraid of your lightning. You hated to admit it, but you craved that, and she was giving it to you, regardless of that probably being unconscious on her part. It wasn’t just her acceptance of you, she was ambitious, smart, not the easiest or warmest to approach to, but easy to be around as long as you knew what you were getting into. Wednesday would judge based on opinions, or behavior, but never for things out of your control, and you admired that. And, as you said to Enid, with Wednesday you got exactly who she said she was. If she said she wasn’t a friend material, she most certainly was right, she wasn’t a friend material in a more accepted definition of a friend.

And you were so stupidly drawn in by everything Wednesday you just knew you couldn’t let go. But she did hurt you, and she did make you angry, and she was reckless and made you worried. For all of that you needed some time away from her, and hopefully that would get the message across to her.

“I really can’t change your mind?” Enid asked, even if already knew the answer.

“Nope. My mind’s made up.”

~X~

You would be a liar if you said you weren’t expecting Thing to show up. “You’re not off the hook either, buddy,” you said as you looked at him. Unlike with Enid you couldn’t avert your eyes, you needed to watch the hand to know what he was telling you.

You wondered if anyone ever used Thing for ‘Talk to the hand’ joke.

He began signing, telling you basically the same words Enid did. That you needed to come back to your room for your own sake.

“I’m good here,” you refused, even if you weren’t, as you said, good here.

‘Wednesday misses you!’ he revealed, even if the statement didn’t make much sense. Still, you figured there must be something you wanted to accomplish because, even, or rather especially, if it was true he’d likely lose several fingers.

“Thing,” you sighed, not willing to hope. “She made her decision, and so did I.”

Yet, Thing remained stubborn. ‘She loves you!'

Your eyes widened at that, and you nearly lit up like fireworks from momentarily losing your focus. That would be a dumb way to die, especially since you'd take Thing with you, and you were sure Wednesday would bring your soul back to torment you for the rest of her life if that happened. “Come on, Thing. Sure, she doesn’t hate me, but she loves me? Don’t give me that,” you couldn’t just believe him, even if you were sure no one in this school knew Wednesday as well as Thing did. Hell, there might not be anyone in the world aside from her parents who knew her better than Thing and you were sure he could give even them a run for their money. It really depended on how much time she spent with Thing as a child.

‘She does!’ Thing remained adamant in his beliefs and kept claiming that.

“If she really misses me, well, first she needs to apologize for tying me up and leaving me in a bathtub. Then we can talk,” there, a compromise, you set definitive conditions for your return, and you were sure Thing would tell Wednesday what you wanted. Somehow, with Enid and Thing coming to talk to you, you almost felt like you and Wednesday were going through a breakup. Their reactions definitely backed that feeling up.

~X~

Reuniting with her uncle Fester and attending a funeral kept Wednesday’s mind off of you and Enid leaving. She was genuinely happy to see him and she always got along with him. And since he needed a place to lay low she had just the spot for him.

“This place belongs to a friend,” she said as they entered the beekeeper house.

“You actually made a friend? That poor kid will be going home in a body bag,” it was an understandable assumption.

Yet something clutched Wednesday’s heart and refused to let go as she looked away from her uncle. Eugene was still in a coma, she was told by her mother you might die for her, her vision made it clear you could be attacked by the monster, and you were already attacked a few nights ago, Tyler got hurt, Enid could have been hurt as well. It seemed like all she accomplished in her investigation was to get people hurt. She wanted to take it all back. To join another club and skip attending, to never start talking to you more than she needed, and the same went for Enid and Tyler, if she could take it all back and make sure you didn’t get close to her none of this would have happened to the four of you.

Only those who were Addams were safe, it seemed. The rest got hurt by being close to her.

Like Nero over a decade ago.

She truly was meant to be alone. Rejected by society and causing pain to those that didn’t reject her.

“Oh! I like a hideout that comes with snacks,” Fester’s excitement made her snap out of her thoughts.

“Those bees are hibernating. They’re practically Eugene’s children,” yet he still reached in to grab them. “That means do not eat them!” at least she could keep something precious to Eugene safe while he was in a coma, if she couldn’t fix what happened with you, Enid and Tyler.

Fester turned around, obviously puzzled by her reaction, but he put the bee back. “You know, when you give me that death stare of disapproval, you remind me of your mother,” he pointed out.

Great. Another reminded of her mother and what she said.

“Speaking of scary things, you know what kind of monster you’re dealing with?” he asked gleefully, much like a child that was excited about a new toy.

“I haven’t been able to identify it,” she handed him Xavier’s drawing and the moment he looked at it he seemed to recognize it.

“Oooh, it’s called a Hyde,” he revealed and handed the picture to her.

“As in Jekyll and Hyde?” she asked.

“Mhm.”

“You’ve seen one before?” finally, she was getting somewhere.

“In ’83, during my vacay at the Zurich Institute for the Criminally Insane. Where I got my first lobotomy, but you know lobotomies. They’re like tattoos. Can’t just get one,” he wasn’t focusing on what was important and she needed him to do that.

“Tell me about the Hyde,” she reminded him of her goal.

“Ah, Olga Malacova,” he seemed to be reminiscing. “Jeez. She had it all. Beauty, brains and a penchant for necrophilia,” he was getting sidetracked again. “Olga was a concert pianist until one night she transformed in the middle of a Chopin sonata. Massacred a dozen audience members and three music critics.”

“What triggered her? Or did she just change on her own? How was she stopped?” she needed to know all of those information. At least now she was certain the monster, the Hyde, was also a human.

“No idea about the first two, but a raiju stopped her. Raiju are usually handy when dealing with outcasts as strong as Hydes, fight fire with fire, or fire with lightning in this case,” again with raiju being useful. It was as if the entire world wanted to make fun of her for getting attached to you, a raiju.

“There’s never been any mention of Hydes in any outcast book,” she was frustrated, but she couldn’t let him know what was the other reason for her frustration. “And Nevermore is reputed for having the best collection,” she nearly snapped, irked by everything going on.

“You try Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary?” Fester suggested and her silence and turning around to face him again clued him in that she didn’t. “Mmmm! Before he founded Nevermore, Faulkner traveled the world, cataloging every outcast community.”

“How do you know this?” it wasn’t an information she expected Fester to have.

“You think your parents can’t keep their hands off each other now, oy vey. I showed up unannounced one night in Gomez’s dorm room, let’s just say I wasn’t interrupting a pillow fight,” he chuckled at his own joke.

“Uncle Fester!” she was growing tired of unnecessary details. “The diary, where is it?”

He gave her a restrained laugh and focused once again. “Nightshades Library. Your dad parked me there and said I should settle in for a long stretch and that’s when I found this nifty little safe. I was hoping for a stash of cash or jewels, but instead I found a diary.”

“We’ll sneak into the Nightshades Library tonight. In the meantime, lay low,” she instructed him, hopefully that would be enough to keep him out of trouble.

“Is Elijah’s kid coming with us? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a raiju shift!” his words made Wednesday freeze for a moment.

Of course, her parents told him about you.

“She’s not, and she won’t shift,” she opened the doors and left before he could reply. Only then did she remember to remind him of one last crucial detail. “And leave the bees alone!” she warned sternly, and just in time as he turned to grab the bees the moment she first stepped outside.

~X~

Thing was more than a little annoying. He actually went to talk to you, traitorous hand. ‘Just talk to her and apologize!’ Thing had the guts to demand that of Wednesday.

“Do you want me to apologize for putting people in danger or for keeping them out of it, make up your mind,” Wednesday was losing her patience with him with every word he said.

‘You miss Y/N!’ he claimed, as if he could understand how she felt.

“Don’t get involved with this, Thing. I won’t warn you again,” she seethed, already feeling the turmoil in her heart due to his bold, albeit true, claim. She did miss having you around, even more so now that she knew what the monster was.

It was ridiculous, how she wanted to share her information with you, yet wanted to keep you as far from the case as possible in order to keep you safe. It was a paradox of sorts. “I have more important business to attend to,” she stopped paying attention to Thing’s persistent attempts to get her to talk to you. She wouldn’t. You made it clear you were angry at her.

You made it clear you didn’t want to see her.

And if this would keep you alive, then this was the best option.

For you, at the very least.

And for Wednesday as well, after all, she’d rather know you were alive and well, than carry the guilt of your death on her consciousness.

~X~

Despite an unwanted interaction with Xavier things were going as planned and Thing opened the safe holding the diary.

Wednesday took it and then a pocket watch caught her eye. “Was that Faulkner’s?” she asked, assuming it was, but somehow she still felt the need to ask.

“Hmm? No, I think it was some raiju’s from way before Faulkner. Faulkner believed it would keep the school safe or something,” Fester told her.

Wednesday frowned, again with a raiju. Knowing her luck it probably belonged to Diego, Goody’s raiju, and she wanted nothing to do with it. But her fingers still brushed against it and her head snapped back.

When Wednesday opened her eyes, she was in the middle of a burning field, Diego, Goody’s raiju, was in his beast form, staring down Crackstone.

“Cursed beast, I shall vanquish you where you stand!” Crackstone yelled, sending torrents of fire toward the blue wolf, yet the raiju remained still, countering the flames with his lightning. It looked like Crackstone was trying to restrain him, but whenever he managed to do it, Diego would simply turn into lightning and move.

Seeing the exhaustion on Crackstone’s face, Wednesday realized they’ve been fighting for a while and the pilgrim was at his limit. And Diego knew that too, as he shifted back into his human form, not a single wound on his body, though it was littered with old scars. “You’re wrong Joseph. I’ll vanquish you, I shall end Goody’s quest for vengeance tonight,” he raised his hand, gathering lightning around it to end the man’s life in one attack. “Your ambush was a mistake.”

His eyes were yellow, and Wednesday thought she figured out how it worked. Red eyes turned to orange when shifting, orange turned to yellow, and yellow to blue, indicating increased heat of lightning that came with shifting into the beast form. The stronger the raiju, the hotter the lightning, she supposed.

But then Crackstone began laughing. “You are a beast cursed by arrogance, be judged by God, my own and your own!”

Diego looked puzzled for a moment, but then a figure appeared behind him. Wearing a battle armor similar to that of a samurai and wearing a cloak to cover the head, the most striking feature of the figure were completely blue eyes and Wednesday recognized them. Those were the same eyes she saw in her vision.

Lightning burst from the figure, forcing Diego to jump to the side and shift, at the very least he was doing much better than you did, as he immediately countered. He fired bolts of lightning from his mouth, destroying the ground around the hooded figure, man, Wednesday guessed judging by the size and shape of Diego’s enemy.

Yet the man merely raised his hand, halting the advances of Diego’s lightning bolts with his own lightning. Was he a raiju too? With his eyes already blue despite not being in the beast form? By Wednesday’s logic it would mean he was stronger than Diego, and from the looks of it that was the case.

Diego landed on the ground and paused, waiting for the man’s attack. It never came, the man was simply content with observing him. Diego’s howl mixed with the sound of thunder as massive amounts of electricity began surrounding him. His body began turning entirely into lightning and he rushed the man, hitting him right in the chest and lifting him off the ground. Diego’s attack was brutal, zapping and slamming into the man from different angles repeatedly and gaining speed and power with every attack.

To finish it, he fired three more lightning bolts from his mouth and landed back on the ground.

Wednesday watched in awe as lightning danced around Diego, following his every whim, and responding to his will. Not a single spark was wasted, he was in complete control, and Wednesday wondered how it would look like when you achieved this kind of control.

The other raiju got up, the cloak covering his head was gone, revealing that it was, in fact, a man. He looked like he was around forty, with blue hair that spiked up as if constantly pushed up by lightning. His smirk revealed sharp teeth, and an angry, almost animalistic look on his face made the sight of him chilling to most people.

The beast and the man clashed, lightning bursting around both of them, destroying and reshaping the field. They rose up to the skies, clashing so fast Wednesday barely managed to keep up with them. She could see Diego biting down on the man’s forearm, yet his teeth didn’t pierce the man’s skin, instead the attack only left Diego open for a lightning strike right to the mouth and the blood coming from it made it clear Diego’s throat got severely damaged.

Yet, Goody’s raiju didn’t stop. He backed away, charging up lightning and forming a spear out of it to send straight at the man. Judging by the intensity of lightning Diego gathered, Wednesday guessed it was one of his stronger abilities, yet the man just caught and crushed the spear in his bare hands.

The man created a tornado of lightning around him and Diego, trapping them both, yet he didn’t seem worried in the slightest as the tornado closed in on them and exploded in a burst of lightning and sparks. That display, done by simply clapping his hands together, was more powerful than anything Wednesday saw you, your father or Diego do, and it left a massive crater on the ground and Diego severely injured and covered in blood. The man didn’t take any damage from his own attack.

Despite taking all those hits, and his own attack, the man just brushed the dirt and dust off his armor, as if asking Diego if that was all he could do. Diego, defiant to his likely end, got back up, much to the man’s clear amusement. The man disappeared, he didn’t even zap like you did, he just vanished and appeared in a burst of lightning next to Diego. His fist, engulfed by lightning, just barely missed Diego, but then an arc of lightning came as a follow-up to the uppercut, catching and wounding Diego.

The wolf howled in pain, whimpering as lightning, probably for the first time in his life, left him paralyzed. What followed was an effortless toying with the wolf raiju, slamming him into the ground, just slightly shifting to the side to dodge the counterattack, and then hitting Diego with another lightning until Goody’s raiju shifted back into his human form.

He didn’t look hurt, and that made Wednesday think the injuries to one form didn’t transfer to the other. The pain probably did, as Diego fell back, writhing on the ground from the aftereffects of lightning strikes he endured.

“Without beast,” Diego gasped, barely able to sit up and though he didn’t finish his sentence Wednesday understood what he meant. The enemy had defeated him without even using the beast form raiju had.

“Beast?” for the first time the raiju spoke. He laughed, throwing his head back and covering his eyes. “You have grown arrogant, my beast!” lightning crackled in the man’s hand. Wednesday didn’t understand what he meant but seeing Diego’s eyes fill with terror she realized Goody’s raiju finally understood something.

“Raijin,” he hung his head low, accepting the defeat and imminent death as lightning struck him. His enemy disappeared in a flash of lightning, and Wednesday watched as Diego’s eyes, blue, not from being a raiju, but from the amount of lightning that struck him, clung to life.

“Diego!” that was Goody’s voice, she made it to the battlefield only to grasp her raiju’s hand as he breathed his last breath.

Wednesday gasped, her vision was over, and she realized Fester and Thing were next to her. Thing stuttered as he asked her if she was okay.

“What happened? You were unconscious for fifteen minutes! Morticia’s visions never lasted that long!” her uncle was equally worried.

“I’m fine,” she said, despising how shaky her voice was, even if most people wouldn’t notice it. She finally knew what attacked you, and considering how easily Diego was defeated it was a miracle that you didn’t get killed at the mayor’s office. But there was no mistaking it. Those blue eyes were the same blue eyes she saw when she touched you that night. And it didn’t make any sense. How was the same person alive over four hundred years later? Or was the power passed down in that form? She didn’t understand it, and she needed to because if that was after you now, she’d need all the information she could get her hands on to make sure you survived.

~X~

“These are some sweet digs. How’d you swing your own single? And where’s the raiju kid?” Fester asked as he looked outside the window of her room.

“My former roommates couldn’t handle my toxic personality,” she refused to answer questions related to you. As she flipped through the pages she was looking for two things, the Hyde and, as much as she wouldn’t admit it, raiju. The Hyde was the first one she found and she showed it to Fester. “Here it is. Faulkner describes Hydes as artists by nature but equally vindictive in temperament. Born of mutation, the Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis. This act causes the Hyde to develop an immediate bond with its liberator, who the creature now sees as its master. It becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose.”

“Anyone willing to unlock a Hyde is a next-level sicko,” Fester commented, but that wasn’t important to Wednesday, no, another information was much more crucial to her investigation.

“That means I’m not looking for one killer, but two. The monster and its master,” the knocking on her door made her put the diary away before anyone, likely Thornhill, could see it. And it was Thornhill, luckily, Fester managed to hide in time.

Thornhill sighed as Wednesday approached her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I was just working on my novel,” she easily lied to cover up what she was actually doing.

“Enid has requested to room with Yoko for the rest of the school year,” Thornhill’s words made Wednesday feel like someone was stabbing her in the back with a serrated knife.

“She did?” she tried to keep her voice neutral, as if she was already expecting this. Somehow, the reality of Enid leaving only now became something she fully understood. Because up until now  Enid’s departure, as well as your own, felt temporary, as if it would end when Enid and you decided you had enough.

“When there’s a falling out, I like to get both girls’ perspectives on what happened, you two seemed as thick as thieves,” Thornhill continued, clearly expecting an answer from Wednesday.

Wednesday turned away and took a few steps to distance herself from Thornhill. “Ultimately, thieves turn on each other. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Deflect all you want, but you and I both know that you care about Enid. And you have to admit she managed to bring out a spark of warmth in you,” well, Wednesday found that to be rather offensive. “Oh, don’t worry,” Thornhill raised her hand slightly. “Just a tiny spark.”

Wednesday crossed her arms at that, though she remained silent.

“Barely perceptible to the average eye, but I noticed. Part of the dorm experience is making friends with people that you wouldn’t normally connect with. And those friendships often turn into lifelong bonds,” Thornhill was trying to get her to fix things with Enid, but she wasn’t saying a word about you.

Wednesday didn’t need any more of those lifelong bonds, the one her mother claimed she had with you was already enough of a torture, even for her. “I would rather buy a rope.”

“Is it really so difficult for you to admit that you made a friend, and now that she’s gone you might actually miss her?” Thornhill asked, consistently focusing only on Wednesday’s relationship with Enid. Perhaps starting off on the wrong foot with you really did make Thornhill see you as only a lightning beast that could lose control.

“I’ll survive alone, I always have,” Wednesday refused to comply, if Enid made her choice, then so be it.

“Well, if that’s your decision, I’ll submit the forms to Principal Weems,” she seemed disappointed, she even shook her head slightly before turning to leave.

“What about Y/N?” Wednesday asked before she could stop herself.

Thornhill turned around, sighing heavily. “She can’t room anywhere else, so whether Principal Weems forces her to come back, or she willingly comes back here, there’s no other room for her. I managed to keep her absence hidden from Principal Weems, but I suggest the two of you find a solution before other people find out. Acting this recklessly could cause Y/N to shift, and even if she doesn’t, taking this additional risk alone might be enough to get her expelled.”

Wednesday swallowed the lump in her throat as Thornhill left. You were aware of the potential consequences, and dangers of your choice, yet you still made them. Wednesday wouldn’t get involved.

“Raiju kid will be fine,” Fester came up to her with a grin on his face. “If she’s anything like her dad she’s resilient and as adamant on staying in control as Elijah was at her age,” that brought some comfort to Wednesday, but she refused to address him when it came to you.

Once left alone, Wednesday went back to the diary and began flipping through the pages again. Aimlessly she began walking around, the diary in hand, until she sat down on the bed and moved to lie down. Your scent caught her attention and she realized too late that she, once again, went to your bed instead of her own. It wouldn’t hurt to spend the night there again.

So, she continued flipping the pages until she found what she was looking for. Faulkner’s notes on raiju.

The images revealed various beasts, with varying amount of lightning coming from them. Faulkner noted the solitary nature of raiju, their struggle with water, the docile behavior unless there was a storm going on. The beast form, was, in fact, something raiju had no control over, shifting into an animal closest to their nature. The beast form was driven mostly by instinct, unable to speak or fully comprehend human speech. He confirmed Wednesday’s theory on the eye color and the heat of the lightning, and she took note of the control indicator in the beast form. The less lightning came out of raiju’s body while they were in beast form the more in control they were. By the end of the text Wednesday thought she didn’t learn anything new, or significant, other than the level of control and the nature of the beast form, only for the biggest revelation to strike her right at the end.

‘Raiju aren’t natural outcast community, they were originally normies, punished by Raijin to turn into beasts during storms and forced to, during said storms, follow his command. As Raijin created more raiju some escaped, spreading around the world, and passing down the ability to transform.’

Wednesday closed the diary and left it next to your bed, her mind filled with thoughts of you, of your argument. As rain once again began falling she barely stopped herself from going out to get you.

A/N: Surely you didn’t think we’d have raiju without raijin being involved, right? Four chapters to go people!

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I don't know if is okay to send question, but i'm curious about something...

Does the Tsaritsa is at reader side? Like, Tsaritsa, not the fatui.

She knows about reader, but can't do nothing to help them, so she slowly would get rid of the fatui.

Like with Lovecraft and Dottore, like, she knew Dottore would go insane, and still let him go to get rid of him.

You know what i mean?

She is get rid of the "bad" fatuis

Unfortunately, Tsaritsa is on Fake Creator's side.

Fake Creator destroyed Celestia, and there is no need for Tsaritsa's rebellion. Before Fake Creator arrived, Tsaritsa expected, that her rebellion will be bloody.

Tsaritsa is grateful for that. She is as loyal to Fake Creator as she can be.

Tsaritsa was the one, who captured Reader. She was the reason for a week full of torture Reader have to go through.

And Tsaritsa is looking for Reader to appear again. She feels guilty because of Reader's disappearance during execution.

Tsaritsa is mad. She has lost two Harbingers (Dottore has lost his mind, Capitano is missing), and Reader wasn't re-captured.

______

A little oneshot about Reader's capture.

Self-Aware! Ivan Goncharov x GN! Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Mentions of drugs and drugging.

______

Ivan never called himself a genus. Yet, he was quite observant.

And he noticed, that you have gained a fear of tea parties.

Before you "went missing", you always joined kids during tea time. Sometimes, you managed to rope other adults into having tea with you and kids.

But, after you've returned, you started avoiding tea parties at all cost.

And, if you agreed to join... You act very strange.

You were sniffing your tea, refused to look away from your cup and plate. Moreover, you take cookies, candies and sandwiches only when you were sure, that others ate them.

Ivan didn't like, what he saw. You hardly spoke about your experience in Teyvat, and Capitano, who was still hold captive, didn't know everything about your "misadventures" in Teyvat.

Ivan was brewing cocoa. A different beverage, a different food.

He hopped, it will help you ease down and answer his questions.

******

You sat between Fyodor and Nikolai, sipping your cocoa. There were a few plates with tartlets on the table. All tartlets have different fillings. Ivan overdid himself.

You took a generous bite from the cheese and spinach tartlet, savoring the flavor.

"Delicious..." spoke you. You were slowly gaining back your feeling of self-worth and stopped always whispering.

Ivan looked at you with a kind smile.

"I am glad, that you liked it, [Y/N]."

You ate the rest of your tartlet, when Ivan spoke again.

"[Y/N], can I ask you something? You can stay silent, if you want to. Why have you become so afraid of a tea parties?"

You froze. One of the most unpleasant memories sank its teeth into your mind. You licked your lips and forced yourself to speak.

"Tsaritsa..."

_______

You silently sat on the opposite side from Tsaritsa, drinking tea she offered you. Cryo Archon found you in a cave, where you were hiding from Snezhnaya people. You feel happy, for the first time in the last three days. Ever since you left Fontaine, your life was in constant danger. You almost died a few times during your stay in Natlan. And, while the boat trip from Natlan to Snezhnaya went surprisingly well (you really liked one of the islands, where you spent a night), Shezhnaya was as unfriendly and dangerous as the rest of Teyvat.

And, finally, you found some help. Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon herself, offered to protect you.

You drank your tea and took another cookie from the plate. You felt sleepy. Your eyelids became heavy. Your mind became foggy.

'why... Tsaritsa wasn't eating or drinking...'

The last thing you have remembered, before loosing consciousness, was Tsaritsa's evil grin.

____

"I woke up in a dungeon... That's how "That week" have started..." You were nested against Nikolai's chest, sitting on his lap, covered with his overcoat. Nikolai squeeze you, while discussing something with Fyodor, Ivan and Alexander. Four of them were speaking very quietly in Russian (or both Russian and Ukrainian in Nikolai's case).

You sighed. BSD Cast were discussing a potential punishment for Teyvat nations in the last few days. You were still hesitant. You don't think you were worth the effort in being avenged.

But, for BSD Cast, you were worth it. And, for Ivan, it was worth to learn more about some... Illegal substances. So he knew what to add to Cryo Archon's tea.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy

[treasuringizu]

Thinking about how Izuku would subconsciously abandon you for hero work, constantly being late to dates or even canceling. You would understand, of course, being a pro hero yourself. But you would wish that he would make time for you just like you make time for him

I just… need an angst to fluff fanfic about this 😭

- empty heart

izuku midoriya x reader | angst, hurt/comfort.

a/n: it’s not specified that reader is a pro hero so they’re whatever you want them to be🤷🏽‍♀️ kind of ends in fluff…..

wc: 1.3k

you’ve lost count of the amount of times it has happened. lost count of the amount of times you were left sitting alone in that restaurant, waiting and waiting patiently only for him to never show up. lost count of the amount of times you needed him — needed him to be there for you — to show up, but he never did.

it happened so slowly, that you didn’t even notice it until it smacked you right in the face. or you were in denial, pretending that what was happening right in front of your face wasn’t really there. that maybe if you ignored it, it would eventually go away.

it didn’t.

it started with missed calls, unanswered texts that you didn’t think much of. he was late to a few dates, you shrugged it off and gave him a kiss. he didn’t show up for that one dinner with your parents, apologizing and saying that he totally forgot, but he’ll be there next time — you said it’s okay. and that was it.

you can’t help but think that maybe it was because you always let him off so easily that it ended up like this. maybe the both of you are as much to blame for the demise of your relationship. maybe you should have pushed harder. maybe he should have prioritized better. maybe, maybe, maybe. maybe you could have done all of that and it still would have ended up this way.

maybe it wouldn’t have ended up like this, with you packing up your things in a tiny luggage that will have to do for now. with tears streaming down your face and your heart feeling like it got stomped on and torn into pieces.

you and izuku were so close. but he feels like a stranger now. too many nights of him getting home after not speaking or seeing him the entire day. you ignored it, pretended like you were sleeping as he slipped into the bed beside you, your back turned to him. he doesn’t wrap his arms around you anymore, doesn’t hold you. though you know he always knew that you were awake. maybe he liked to ignore it too. you both always hated confrontation.

there were no more i love you’s, no more i miss you’s. no more love. it was there, but it was empty. you guys don’t talk anymore, don’t laugh anymore. no more nights where you stay up discussing the most random things when you both could be sleeping, no more sad movies and holding izuku in your arms while he cries like a baby because a character died, no more him. no more us, you think.

you were getting drained — getting tired.

and again, you hated confrontation, so that’s why you’re packing your things up now, when you know he won’t be home to see you leaving him. so he can’t see you acting like a coward.

you pack your essentials, throw in some clothes that can last you at least a few days, and pack away your heart with it.

and then you’re heading for the door, furiously wiping at your face to the point it hurts — but the handle is turning and it opens before you can get to it. and in comes the love of your life — the stranger you’re now living with.

your heart squeezes at the sight of him, and you take in what you can. his mess of curly green hair — dark and kind eyes to match, the freckles that are scattered everywhere on his face, the freckles you love to count but never get to the end of, as if they’re endless. you trace the curve of his cheeks with your eyes, imagining his lovable smile that melts your heart, his dimples popping out. his lips, that you loved to steal kisses from, as much as you could get.

izuku breathes out your name as he steps inside, closing the door and doubling back at the sight that greets him. his eyes widen, going to your face — the tears that you’re sure are streaming down, and then trailing below to the bag you’re clutching in your hand.

he stumbles forward, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what to say — what to do. and you stand there, hardening your face to not give away any emotions, though you’re sure your tears gives it all. you’ve always done that, worn your heart on your sleeve but tried to hide it as much as you could.

vulnerability — never an option.

“what…” his throat bobs. “what are you doing?”

you almost want to laugh, if not for the hurt he’s showing. “what does it look like?”

“i- what?” a plethora of emotions flash across his face. he’s shaking his head, dropping his duffel bag on the ground — he’s freshly showered, hair slightly damp on his forehead. he must have showered at his agency.

you rub your thumb back and forth against the rough handle of your bag. “i thought you’re supposed to be on patrol?”

he eyes your hand where it holds onto the luggage. “got off early. kachaan… he’s covering for me.”

“oh…” silence. you stare at each other for what seems like forever, your feet rooted in place.

it’s when you move your hand to wipe at your face that izuku breaks the silence, saying your name. he takes a step forward, faltering when you back away in response. he frowns, “why do you have your bag packed?”

you don’t answer his question. “what are we doing, izuku?”

“what- i… what do you mean?”

you want to scream. you want to break down and cry while he holds you in his scarred arms. “what are we doing!” your voice cracks, but you don’t even feel embarrassed as you feel another wave of fresh tears.

he knows what you mean. his own eyes are glassy, you note. “i don’t know. i don’t know.” his fists clench at his sides.

this time you do laugh. “exactly. you don’t know.” your heart breaks even more. “i think.” you pause, taking in his expression. “i think i have to go.”

“no you don’t.” his hand reaches for you — to hold you, but he must rethink his decision because he stops midair, letting his hand swing back as he gulps. “you don’t…” his voice is a whisper, quiet.

you nod your head, firm. “i do.”

but then he moves forward again, unstopping until he’s right in front of you, and then suddenly you’re engulfed by him, your senses overtaken. he hugs you, hard. squeezes you and that’s when you feel his sharp intake of air, and then his body is shaking as he holds you.

and it’s funny, you think, that this is what it took for him to hug you like this again. hold you like he doesn’t ever want to let go.

“please.” you can feel his heart breaking along with yours as he breathes into the top of your head, as he holds you tighter.

you start sobbing again, gasping for air as you fist his shirt in your hands, burrowing into him.

“we can fix this.” izuku repeats it over and over again, as if he’s trying to convince himself as well. pulling away, he looks you in the eyes — letting you see the emotions swarming around in his. “we can.”

you look at him — really look at him like you haven’t in months. you look at the tears that are now falling down his face too, using the back of your hand to wipe them off and somehow mustering a tiny smile when he closes his eyes and shudders at your touch.

you think about all the times he’s left you hanging, all the times you needed him and he just wasn’t there. but then you think about the times he was there, standing right by you and holding you up when you couldn’t stand anymore.

you think, that if it’s for him, you can try harder. let him have your heart again.

“we can.”

[pacifymebby]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do a HC of the peaky blinders men having a lover who sings, like they sing so beautifully, and they like sing privately to the boys like love songs to them or a song they made up while slow dancing with them in a room (omfg that would be cute!) Thanks!! Hope your day goes well!! 💜

Aw this is so sweet <3

Warnings: nsfw in some places

Tommy

🌿He heard you singing before he heard you speaking. He was stood behind you in the queue at the bakery and you were singing to yourself under your breath.

🌿Even though you were only singing quietly he could already tell you were a good singer, that he'd like to hear you singing properly.

🌿 So he leant down and spoke quietly to you, "sing a little louder love, shame to waste such a pretty song by keeping it to yourself..."

🌿 Naturally you hushed up pretty sharpish, turning with a little gasp, a blush flourishing on your cheeks. You even apologised upon seeing who it was you'd disturbed with your little song...

🌿But he just chuckles and asks you again, "No I mean it, I you have a lovely voice, I'd like to hear a little more..."

🌿Then you're really blushing because this is Tommy Shelby you're talking to and he's asking you to sing for him in the middle of the bakery, and no one refuses him when he asks for something...

🌿 So you do, because you have to. You're trembling with nerves when you begin to sing a little louder, and you feel the eyes of other people in the shop watching you. You know that impromptu singing isn't exactly normal for a Thursday morning...

🌿 But its Tommys eyes on you that are doing the most damage. He's watching you so intensely.

🌿And when you finish your song, trailing off because your nerves have caught up to you and you feel ridiculous - which you tell him - he just takes your hands, tells you you're shaking, and then tells you again that your voice is beautiful.

🌿He pays for your shopping as a thank you and you expect never to see him again however that isnt the case and you seem to see him more often than ever. Its like he's searching you out...

🌿And he is... After hearing you sing for the first time he's obsessed with you, he thinks you've the most pure and angelic voice... It soothed him, calmed him when he needed to be brought back down to earth and he's determined to get close to you, have you all to himself.

🌿And naturally Tommy gets what he wants, he always does. He goes to the bakery at least once a day, always vague about why he's there, never lying about it because he isn't embarrassed or ashamed of that kind of thing. His determination has always been a strong point.

🌿 "In here a lot lately Tommy, and you don't have a sweet tooth in you..." "No, no you're right Sammy I don't... I'm just looking for someone, figure they do have a sweet tooth," shoots the baker boy a knowing half smile, like they're sharing an in joke, because he knows that being friendly with this lad will get him the information he wants.

🌿"Comes in first thing Saturday mornin and first thing Mondays too, sometimes shes in on a Wednesday for bread flour..."

🌿 So the next Saturday morning he's there bright and early and he finds himself in the queue behind you again, but today you know hes there and youre shy and embarassed remembering what happened last time... So you're not singing.

🌿And Tommys very dissapointed. "Quiet this morning little bird," he muses quietly, leaning down behind you, talking right beside your ear, making you jump and blush when you turn around startled by him. He enjoys seeing you startled and made shy by him, if he's being honest he really likes the sight of that, but he apoligises to you anyway, ever the gentlemen and he just like that he tells you he needs someone for a job, he needs a singer... See his little boy has these terrible nightmares since his mother died and well, he needs someone to come and sing to him at night, help him sleep.

🌿"The money'd be good I promise, don't sound like a real job I know but it'd pay like a real job... Better than a real job..."

🌿And how can you refuse when a man tells you his motherless little one isn't sleeping. So you don't even think about the money, completely taken in by Tommys little white lime. Because its Tommy who needs singing to, Tommy who's getting those horrid nightmares...

🌿You start visiting every couple of days, in the evenings for an hour or two, singing littlw Charlie to sleep whilst his father sits over his crib, stroking his hair. You realise that this must be a side to him Tommy doesnt let anyone else see. You start to see him as someone with vulnerabilities, with a tender side, capable of love. Something you've always been told Thomas Shelby is incapable of.

🌿And as time passes you start to realise that it isn't Charlie who struggles to sleep, that its Tommy. And so as time passes you start staying later, pretending you cant tell Charlie's settled, singing until Tommy has fallen asleep too. Sometimes you're there all night singing and then falling asleep ib your chair at the end of Charlies bed, because its too late to walk home alone.

🌿Things between you and Tommy took a long time to blossom but by the time they did you already felt like you knew him so well.

🌿Tommy is the one who brings your confidence out, always telling you how beautiful your voice is, how lovely it is to hear you sing. How you should be singing for people all the time. Before Tommy you didn't really sing for other people but now he's built you up to a place where you're not affraid to sing for others. In fact you often enjoy it.

🌿The night he kissed you for the first time it was late, Charlie had drifted to sleep and you were doing your usual, pretending not to have noticed, keeping up your singing until Tommy drifted off too.

🌿But Tommy had been watching you, tormented by these increasingly affectionate thoughts he'd been having whenever you were around. And he decided to do something that night.

🌿"y/n love, c'mere," he said, he looked sleepy and you were tired too, "Cmon come here, Charlies asleep and you look so lovely tonight, let me dance with you?"

🌿You were shocked but you were secretly thrilled because over the weeks you'd been visiting little Charlie you'd found yourself growing increasingly soft on Tommy. Perhaps it was that tender side you'd been seeing, that no one else saw, but he made you feel all kinds of happy whenever he was around. Everything felt sweeter, warmer, better.

🌿And although you were still shy when his serious eyes fixed on you and you felt him studying you, you had to admit that it thrilled you to be the center of his attention. And lately youd been wondering how it would feel to be held by him. To have him stroke your hair from your face. To have him look at you with that intensity, but from close up instead of from the otherside of the room.

🌿So you did as he asked and you crossed the bedroom floor to him. You gave him your hands and he held your fingers delicately. And when he stood up his hands moved to your waist, smoothing down the fabric of your dress gently, holding your hips.

🌿You didn't know what to do with your hands so he placed them for you, one on his shoulder, one palm flat against his chest.

🌿"Now," he said, "we need music..." he gave you a teasing, knowing smirk, "sing me something sweet angel, somet as sweet as you eh?"

🌿The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife but it was good tension. The atmosphere close and warm, the two of you gentle and sleepy and soft with one another. You felt so shy you has to close your eyes when you began to sing your favourite slow song, one which was really an old scottish lullaby but which could be danced to slowly too.

🌿"Good girl," Tommy lets out a little sigh, kissing your forehead, beginning to dance you slowly, rocking you. When his lips brush your cheek you open your eyes, look up at him like a doe in the headlights. You've thought about what it would be like to be kissed by him too but this is nothing like anything you could have ever imagined.

🌿Him telling you your songs beautiful as he leans in to kiss you on the lips, your mouths meeting and the two of you suddenly realising that this was something you should have done much much sooner.

🌿And when the kiss deepened and the two of you felt the moment heating up, the swell of need for him, and his for you, almost catching you both by surprise, he lifted you up off your feet and carried you to his bedroom.

🌿Now naturally, you'd stopped singing, your mouth a little occupied... However as he dips to kiss your neck, your collar bones and your chest, as he begins to undress you carefully, delicately, he asks you not to stop singing.

🌿"Keep singing angel," he murmurs to you between kisses, and he keeps repeating himself, even when youre undressing him, even when hes lifted you up off your feet and your legs are wrapped around him. Even as he slips into your for the first time, taking it slow and gentle, yoir voice shaking, your melody interrupted by your breath catching in your throat as he pushed into you slowly...

🌿He'll sing to you too sometimes and he has a far lovelier voice than you imagined he would. His voice is low and just a little rusty/misty sounding. It has that sweet woody tone to it. He'll sing to you when you're sad or scared.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie didn't know you could sing for a long time. It was something which, he'd always imagined you probably could do, because your low voice was always so sweet and resonant even when you spoke, but when he overhears you singing he has to say, he's surprised.

🐻And it niggles at him too, he's almost a little annoyed you've never sang to him, you don't even sing around him, not even in the evenings when he's got the wireless on.

🐻 He probably gets a bit grumpy about it as if he thinks youve been keeping your beautiful singing a secret from him on purpose.

🐻 But in reality you're just shy, and you don't think you do have a beautiful singing voice. You definitely don't think its beautiful enough to warrant singing for other people as if you believe yourself to be something special...

🐻 But Alfie stands just the otherside of the kitchen doorway listening to you sing as you kneed your bread dough. Thinks your voice is the most enchanting sound he's ever heard and he loves it.

🐻 Pretends not to like it, just to tease you, he comes into the kitchen behind you, grumbling and chuntering away. "Now whats all this racket then, whats all this... This noise bloody awful noise right keepin me awake..." but he can't keep his trick up for very long at all, not when you look mortified, wide eyes and imediately apologising over and over.

🐻He has to laugh, he can't believe you believe him for a start. But he feels guilty for teasing you and immediately opens his arms up to you, hugs you and kisses your cheek.

🐻"I'm only teasing zieskiet, obviously I'm only teasing you... As a matter of fact yeah, your little song you were singing just now, well, as a matter of fact my dear that was the most beautiful little song my fussy old ears, have ever been fuckin blessed to hear..."

🐻 Alfie thinks your voice is so inspiring, and he's a lover of music himself, a lover of the arts, he always tells you you should be singing on stages, in operas, for an audience with the knowledge, the cultured palette to appreciate you.

🐻You're his muse when he starts writing his opera, in fact your voice alone is half the reason he has for trying to write it in the first place. He wants to write an opera fittinf of youe glorious voice. But whenever he asks you to sing for him, whenever he asks you to inspire him, you just get shy and you try to hide away.

🐻And you always tease him to, reminding him, "I thought my singing was just a bloody great racket..." you'll refuse to sing for him just to watch him get grumpy and grumbly and then you'll giggle and sing for him running your fingers through his hair or his beards.

🐻 And you'll sing little love songs, tell him you wrote them for him and he'll get a little embarassed. "Don't know what you're wasting your time writing songs about me for zieskiet... Just an old man..." "My old man..."

🐻 He writes arias for you to sing and tries to get you to sing for other people but you won't do it. Your voice is something you trust only Alfie with, and he grows comfortable with that, begins to feel like he wouldn't want it any other way. Your voice is this precious secret that you share, something so precious you'll only give it to him.

🐻 Calls for you to come sit in his lap when its late and hes just come home from the office or that late night business that always sees him come home with blood on his hands. He sits himself down at the kitchen table or in his big armchair by the fire and he calls for you to come to him.

🐻 "Zieskiet my precious angel come sit down with your old man, it's been a fuckin godless day and he's tired..." and you go to him, let him pull you down into his lap, let him bundle you up in his arms, kiss you and growl into your neck. Running his hands over your waist, squeezing you possesively.

🐻 Holds your face in his hands and looks up at you, into your eyes with his own, which are so cold and steely for everyone but you. For you theyre molten, soft and dark and full of adoration.

🐻 "Sing me a song zieskiet, one with a sad little story right? One where the hero dies somet tragic yeah... Will you do that for your old man yeah, sing him a nice fuckin tragedy?"

🐻 Because he's a strange eccentric he will absolutely send Ollie or someone running half way across the city to find you having been told its an emergency, a serious fuckin emergency.

🐻 And when you get to the office Alfies just frowning, "Ah zieskiet, poppet thank the heavens you are here... Finally..." "What is it Alf, whats the matter?" "Ive tuned in and out of this bloody wireless yeah, and I've searched this whole bloody box of records yeah, ain't any fuckin music anywhere to be found..."

🐻 He really scared you half to death, had you running across the city with Ollie, just so you could sing him his favourite song.

Arthur

🍂 You've never really thought of yourself as particularly musically gifted and you don't really think your voice is anything special, however you love to sing and sing all the time. You adore music, you use it for emotional regulation, you hate to sit in silence. You hum when youre nervous, when you're happy, when you're sad you listen to sad songs and you sing along and pretend that your pain is just as bad as the pain of the man singing about his dead love.

🍂 And its something Arthurs always loved about you. How you're always singing, how you brighten a room with your good mood and your happy humming. How when things get tense and the kids need soothing and distracting, you're there to sooth them with a little song.

🍂 You teach Johns kids and Charlie and Ruby little songs, nursery rhymes, or songs to learn the alphabet and how to count. Songs to learn the days and the months. Arthur loves how you have a song for everything.

🍂 Its just something that makes you so different from everyone else in his life. You're so sweet and goodhearted and you're never too serious and your singing puts him at ease. He loves to listen to you and it always leaves him feeling warm and good inside when you sing.

🍂 When hes stressed out he'll ask you to sing for him and thats the only time you ever feel self concious, when he asks you to sing just for him and you can tell that hes depending on you for something. Then you question whether you're really good enough at singing... Because you know he'll actually be listening and expecting to hear something beautiful.

🍂 He likes to share a bath with you, share some wine, share some snow and then have you sing whilst you massage his shoulders. Loves when you wash his hair and sing for him, when you sing soft and low and sweetly in his ear, just for him. It makes him feel so safe and pure.

🍂 You sing to him to calm him when he's struggling to come down from one of those raging adrenaline rushes triggered by his PTSD. When hes having flashbacks you sing to him and hold his hand, kiss his temple. It helps to keep him grounded, helps him to stay on this plain in this reality instead of getting lost in a bad memory.

🍂You sing to him when youre cleaning his wounds, when youre washing other men's blood from his hands, scrubbing his nails and singing soothing little songs to calm him, to let him know you still love him, still think he deserves to be sung to. To be treated like a human.

🍂 He has favourite songs he'll ask for. And sometimes if youre singing and he doesn't feel like the kids are grateful enough that you sing to them he'll tell them to hush up and listen to you, "Dont know how lucky you are gettin to hear your aunty y/n sing for you like that, other kids would kill to have someone so beautiful singin to them!"

🍂Actually can get grumpy if he doesn't think other people appreciate your singing enough.

John

🌼 Is such a git and teases you relentless about your singing because you sing to yourself all the time.

🌼 "eh up that crazy lass from Watery Lanes singin to herself again, what a looney..." he's only joking but he doesn't know when a jokes stopped being funny, or that hes taking the joke too far.

🌼 Doesn't realise you think he's being serious or at least means it a little bit when he says its embarassing the way you wander round singing to yourself all the time, "whole of Birminghams gonna think you're losing the plot flower, gonna think you've gone nuts..."

🌼 So after awhile his jokes get to you and you take his thoughtless teasing to heart. You stop singing, or you try anyway. Its an old habbit and it dies hard and slow, so slow that John doesn't notice how you're singing less and less, or how sometimes you'll be singing to yourself but you'll stop just as he walks into a room.

🌼 Basically he's oblivious to the damage hes done until its too late and you really have stopped singing completely. Now you don't even really sing to yourself and its his fault...

🌼 Then one day he realises how quiet it is, how quiet you are and he gets upset, suddenly really worried for you.

🌼 "Y/N lass whats going on eh? You're upset or somets happened? Am not stupid I can tell..." but he is stupid, hes a stupid fuckin dinlow because even now he doesnt realise whats really the matter. When you tell him nothing is wrong, that everythings fine he argues back and says

🌼 "No, nah somethings not right flower, you don't sing anymore or anything, you're so quiet..."

🌼 You look at him, a little bit confused, a little bit wounded. "Thought you didn't like my singin...why do you care if I don't sing anymore?" you sound more sullen than you think you do and suddenly John knows exactly why you've stopped singing and he feels like such a fucking idiot.

🌼 "Oh bloody hell," he sighs, getting annoyed with himself for being an idiot. "Fuck sake, I'm sorry love..."

🌼 Tells you that he loves your singing and always has, that its one of his favourite things about you and thats the whole reason he used to tease you for it. Because he loves it so much he just thought that it was obvious he was only teasing.

🌼 So then he has to chip away at you the other direction, teasing you until you're singing for him again. Because obviously John isnt going to learn the error of his daft, boyish ways.

🌼 And finally you relent and give in and sing a little love song for him which has you both blushing.

🌼 His favourite thing which he used to love watching was how you'd gather all the wains up in your bed with you at night and if a story wasn't working to send them all off to sleep, you'd sing lullabyes for them.

🌼 He liked climbing into bed with you and the children and getting cosy, one big happy family, all huggled up together whilst you sang for them.

🌼 When one of the wains starts singing and copying you, singing with you sometimes John is overwhelmed with pride and he loves it. Loves you for teaching his littlens something he could never have taught them himself.

🌼Will get jealous if its been a long day and all he wants is to spend a little alone time with his girl, but he can't get anywhere near you because the kids want you to sing for them. He'll end up packing them all off to bed with the promise of one last song and then when finally its just you and him he'll tease you, singing your song back to you, making fun until youre giggling and blushing and actually getting quite wound up by him.

🌼 Then hes all kisses and grabbing you, pulling you close, singing and kissing you all over until youre laughing too much to fight him anymore.

Bonnie

🍀Has always loved to listen to music, ever since he was a little boy. And because you grew up together travelling around, hes always known you could sing. Always loved listening to you sing.

🍀Once when you were a little girl one of the older lads teased you about your singing voice telling you to shut up, telling you it wasnt cool to sing, it was cool to know how to hunt and do manly things. And little Bonnie threw a rock at him, "You shut up dinlow!"

🍀He didn't win that fight and in fact he got into a fair bit of bother for throwing that rock at one of the Boswell boys. A lot of trouble actually, more than it was worth as far as youre concerned.

🍀You didn't stop singing, you were a smart girl and you knew that most of the time the boys that said mean things to you were only doing it because they were daft and didn't know how to speak to girls. Had to be mean because they were scared of pretty lassies.

🍀Thats what Bonnie always told you anyway.

🍀Now you're much older and Bonnie is your boy, your champion, and you still sing all the time. You sing to the wains when you're helping to look after them. You sing when you're doing your chores, doing the washing in the stream, preparing the meat when the lads come back from hunting.

🍀You often sing around the fire in the evening when the men get their instruments out and some of the others dance with their wives and children. You'll sing at funerals too, when everyone needs a sad song to fill the silence whilst you watch the flames burning and the remember those who have passed.

🍀Sometimes Bonnie watches you with the youngens, when youre singing your lullabies to the babies, rocking them to sleep... He can't help but imagine you singing to his babies one day. Sometimes watching you singing with the children gets him in the mind that he wants to give you children sooner rather than later.

🍀Has definitely told you this too, he isn't shy about it. Will kiss your cheek and your neck, nibble your ear and then say something about how he's gonna have you singing lullabies to babies of your own in no time at all.

🍀He's a superstitious lad, has his pre fight routines... And the most important is that you come to his changing room, that just you and him get at least a minute or two alone for you to sing his lucky song to him whilst you wrap his hands up. He'll close his eyes and focus on your voice, how pure and pretty it is, he'll slow his breathing, get himself in the zone and then he'll kiss your cheek, give you one of his cheeky over confident winks, and off he goes to fight like a champion yet again.

🍀Teases you, says one day you'll be singing folk songs about bonnie Bonnie Gold champion of the world.

🍀 Fond of a post fuck lullaby, loves to hold you in his arms and listen to one of your sweet little songs. Loves to feel the vibration of your voice in his chest when you're resting on top of him.

🍀 He thinks of your singing when hes scared. He doesnt really get scared so easily, he enjoys most of the work he does for the blinders, doesn't really mind the killing, he's always been very laidback about those sorts of things, always been very calm. But sometimes when he's in a dangerous situation and he's realising quite how dangerous what he's doing is, when he realises he might not get out of a place alive, he remembers one of your songs, pictures you singing in a field or by the fire or with the wains, or how sometimes you sing just for him in the middle of the night, and the thought calms him.

🍀When he's injured after a fight, or after a blinder job that went wrong, and he can see that you're scared by the sorry state of him, he'll force you an easy smile and ask you to sing for him. Partly because he knows it'll give you something to focus on instead of powerlessly worrying, and partly because he'll take any excuse to hear that gorgeous voice of yours. "Pretty as bird song in the morning dove, thats how your singin sounds...."

🍀 Bonnie can definitely sing and he definitely sings for you, little lullabys and sad ancient folk songs with mysterious stories threaded into them. He'll lie with you under a tree at the edge of misty moorlands and sing to you a little irish lament about a girl who went wandering into the mist to find her lover never to return again. He'll tell you she haunts the moores and then he'll tease you when he scares you with his little ghost songs.

Isaiah

🐀You're the life of a party when you sing down the Garrison and Isaiah is always glad to be able to see you dancing and singing spreading joy, stirring high spirits.

🐀He's also pretty pleased because it was him who told the Shelbys to hire you as a barmaid, told them you were a wonderful singer and that you'd have the place buzzing and busy all night.

🐀And its true, you have the power to pick exactly the right song and get every man up to the bar or dancing with his lass or remembering times gone by. You're a real crowd pleaser thats for sure and Isaiah is very proud to have found you. Always tells Tommy "you owe me for that Tommy, my girls the main reason this place stays open..."

🐀But Isaiah has a jealous streak and he doesn't like watching the way the other men at the Garrison admire you. Hates to see other men falling in love with his lass, falling for your voice and the pretty songs you sing, the bright light which seems to radiate from you when you smile through the notes of a happy song.

🐀So he spends half the night planning how he'll get you alone, soothing his jealousy with thoughts of what he'll do when he finally gets you alone and he can tease you and touch you, kiss you all he likes without feeling jealous eyes on him.

🐀Taking you into the private booth and locking the little door so that its just you and him and you can't be disturbed. You getting flustered because he's just stolen you from the floor and you're supposed to be working.

🐀"Saiah whatre you doing, theres pints to pull! You'll get me in trouble..." "Nah love, ain't gettin in any trouble if you're with me, am a blinder aren't I..." winking at you being cheeky, teasing you and pulling you into his lap, holding you there one hand on your hip, one holding your chin and stearing you to loom at him.

🐀"Sing me a song love, one thats just for me..." he says giving you a needy little stare, his eyes fixed on yours, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He enjoys seeing you blush, seeing you get a little shy. That shy smile so beautiful. "Sing us a song thats just for me and promise you'll never sing it for anyone else yeah.."

🐀So you do, and you promise you'll never sing it for anyone else, so it becomes your song. When you get married its the song you share your first dance to.

🐀At home, and only when no one else is with you he'll join in your songs and dance you around the kitchen or the bedroom, only interrupting your melody when he can't keep his lips from your lips any longer.

🐀You can tell his jealousy and how possesive he is over you and you love it, and you want him to know that you love it and you love him, so you write him little love songs and laments and you sing them for him in that private booth at the Garrison or in bed when the house is quiet and the streets outside are hushed by the late late night sky.

🐀He LOVES your little love songs and he can't even begin to express the effect they have on him. Hearing the words you wrote for him, hearing a whole song inspired by him... Its incredible and it stokes his ego but it also makes him feel so loved...

🐀Theres also probably something precious to Isaiah about the fact that you admire him and think hes good enough to be the subject of a song because obviously racism is aggressively prevalent in 1920s birmingham and he spends a lot of time very aware that if it wasnt for his peaky cap and even despite his peaky cap, there are many who would think him unworthy even of acknowledgement. So the fact that the love of his life is writing pretty little songs about how much they adore him, how handsome he is, how he makes their whole world turn... Well, he feels very proud and very honored and touched and he never quite knows how to express it.

🐀Tries to write you one too but it ends up being a silly little ditty that ends with something dirty that makes you blush and laugh and climb straight into bed with him.

Michael

☘️ There are many parts of himself Michael keeps secret. All the things he thinks people might think him a "soft lad" for.

☘️ One of these is that he can sing beautifully. His adopted mother used to play piano and have him and his brother sing hymns from church.

☘️His mother knows he can sing too, she makes him sing for her when she's worried, when the voices of the dead are too loud or painful to listen to. When shes unwell and suffering. Michael will sing for her but he'll be sullen and embarassed and he'll berrate her for even asking it of him.

☘️ The other hidden secret is that he loves to be sung to sleep. He loves to lie with you, him between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his head resting on your belly as you comb your fingers through his hair and sing him a soft soothing melody.

☘️Probably because he has mummy issues. He loves to be spoiled and taken care of like that, to be treated gently.

☘️After the Changretta hit on him, when he's in the hospital, you visit him every day, you're so worried about him but he's got glad to have his "little songbird" with him to sing for him and keep him from killing himself from the boredom of being cooped up like that.

☘️He asks you to sing songs for him whilst you change his bandages and wash his wounds. He likes the distraction from the pain and he tells you you have a healing voice. Tells you its a gift, that you were a gift sent to him from some higher power.

☘️If you want to sing professionally, which michael will definitely encourage, he will pull the strings to get you singing in tge fanciest hotels, to have you climb the ladder to stardom. Partially because he wants to see you happy and will do anything to keep you happy, but also partially because it feeds his ego and makes him feel powerful to have a famous girlfriend, one who is admired by so many for her beautiful voice. You're a real star, shining bright, and you're all his. No one elses.

☘️He keeps his own talent hidden from you for a long long time because he's worried you'll think him less of a man, worried you'll think he's soft. But one day, the day your father dies, you're so distraught, exhausted from all your grief, and michael wants to help you so he holds you in his arms and strokes your hair, rocks you gently and sings you to sleep.

☘️He doesnt think youll remember, thinks you'll have forgotten it because you were in such a state, but you remember how beautifully he sang and when you ask him about it he gets so self concious and blushes and tries to deny it.

☘️ "Must have been imagining it sweetheart I can't sing..."

☘️You beg him to sing to him again, and again and again...

☘️And finally he gives in, says that if you'll sing him a song he will join in. And you sound really lovely together and you can't keep the smiles off your faces.

☘️When you have children michael sings them these lowly lullabies and you love to fall asleep holding the baby in your arms, the both of you lulled to sleep by daddy.

[queenofthedisneyverse]

Prowler!Miles x Black Male! Reader (angst to fluff)

TW; some cursing but not a lot

Word count: 2,803

You loved miles, ever since you were eight years old. But ever since his dad died things…have changed. The city has gotten worse, it was already bad but without Miles’s father, it’s gotten worse. Miles has changed more though, his once kind and funny nature turned cold, stoic, and nonchalant. You also changed but only to protect yourself, if you looked like a happy sunshine sunflower in the sin city that is new york you would have been jumped. 

So, you and Miles share the same look most of the time, and that look is usually resting b!tch face. You still yourself though, you like helping out where you can and being kind where kindness is needed. Crime is often in New york, so you prefer to only go straight to school, home, and/or Miles’s house. No going out at night whatsoever, that’s a given. But even getting the grocery list done seems like a life or death task because on any given day, it could be a life or death situation. So you mostly keep to yourself or chat with some friends or your bf Miles. 

He loves to spoil you and just loves you. Affection is there but you two are building up to it, hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek, etc. 

Your relationship with miles is pretty hidden, terrible cities birth terrible people and having people know you were queer was not a good idea. You love Miles but he can be a lot at times, he spends time with you one day and completely ignores you for the next three weeks. 

It was irritating but you stayed quiet, you wanted to give him some space since his dad died. But you can’t help but worry about him, especially about this job he and his uncle Aaron go to. What kind of job is he doing that pays him six thousand dollars worth of money? You know it’s not anything good with how you mostly see him scruffed up, but alas you didn’t say anything. 

You would ask if you two could go on dates but you would get hit with-

“Sorry querido, not now”

“Can’t today mi amor, maybe another time”

“I’m sorry babes, can’t tonight” 

After this kept happening you began to get more hurt and mad at this, you tried to be mature and understanding but it was getting harder…Today was the last straw. You have been texting and calling Miles everying few days and he hasn’t been answering. You couldn’t do this anymore, did he even love you? Of course he did…did he? You didn’t want these questions in your head but they kept circling and hurting you the more they circled. 

You stopped, you just stopped, you stopped calling him, you stopped texting, and you stopped leaving voicemails. F*ck him, so what if he doesn’t want to see you? You don’t care, you never cared. 

You were laying down in your bed, with some tears streaming down your face. 

I hate him, you thought, but you didn’t hate him. You still love him, you just don’t want to admit it. It was 9:30 and you’ve been trying to go to sleep since 9, obviously sleep wasn’t being your friend and allowed you to be tormented by your thoughts. 

Tap Tap Tap

It can’t be, you thought

Tap Tap Tap

It couldn’t be, you thought

You turn around and see your boyfriend Miles, looking as tired and stoic as ever, waving to you and gesturing to you to open the window. You look at him for a moment and think about how he has the audacity to show up at your window, you noticed he had a bloody nose and some scraps along his face. Not being a jerk, you allow him in and get the first aid kit from your dresser. 

“Hola Príncipe” 

That word, that lovely word that he always calls you when you're together. That lovely word he teases and praises you with, or used to anyway. Instead of sitting on your bed like he usually does, you had him sit in your desk chair. You weren’t ready to have him be comfortable when you weren’t. 

“Don’t call me that” is all you said

15 minutes went by as you (roughly) cleaned his injuries. Miles took notice and decided to speak on it. 

“Why are you so quiet babes?” 

You didn’t answer, you just cleaned his wounds, getting rougher as he spoke. 

“Ow! y/n!” he tightly grabbed your wrist, causing you to yank it back from him. 

“Can’t you just stop talkin’? That’s what you're good at ain't you? Not talkin’?” you snap, earning a confused face from Miles. 

“You ignore me for WEEKS on end and then all of a sudden you show up to my window and start talkin to me? Are you for real miles?” 

You aren’t prone to snapping, you never have. It just wasn’t in your nature to do things like that, sure you got mad, but never snapped. 

“Príncipe I-” 

“NO MILES’ of all people YOU don’t get to talk, for the past three years I’ve been trying so hard to make you happy. To make sure you’re loved and cared for man” You say, hot tears falling down your face. 

“All I tried to do is love you Miles, why can’t you do the same for me huh? Why is it so hard Miles? TELL ME, TELL ME WHY IT’S SO HARD TO LOVE ME” 

“...y/n please lower your tone and..I can’t tell you” 

“LOWER MY TONE? MILES YOU HURT ME! LOOK AT MY FACE MILES, LOOK AT WHAT YOU-....Just get out Miles, please” you give up, if you don’t stop yelling the neighbors will hear and tell your parents what they heard. People are nosey like that. You flop down on your bed and face away from him in a fetal position. 

“Just get out” you say as you choke out a sob

Miles sits there completely shocked but not surprised at the reaction. He’s shocked at how loud you got but not how you reacted. He planned on coming by and talking to you, but he just couldn’t get the words out…not like you let him either. 

Miles stood up from the chair and walked over to you

“Príncipe, look at me” he said softly, putting his hand on your shoulder

“GET TF OUT MILES” you yell at him, slapping his hand away.

Miles takes it upon his safe to literally turn you around to the point where your legs are hanging over the bed but you're still laying down. 

“WHAT THE F*CK! MILES LET ME GO!” you scream, trying to fight him off. But here’s the thing, Miles works out a lot more than you do…so you're losing this fight. Mile’s takes one of his hands and pins both of your arms down and covers your mouth with the other hand. 

“Listen, I’m sorry for ignoring you, I am but I’m only trying to protect you!” he tells you, you are still struggling under his grasp. 

“Y/n…stop, you know you aren’t going to win this” he blankly says 

You stop wiggling after a minute or so, you're tired and you really don’t want to deal with this any more. He lifts his hand from your mouth and lets you go, he knows that you look like you're tired or tuckered out. Your highschool gym class is a perfect example of that. 

“Please Miles, just leave me alone” you silently beg as you cry

“I can’t leave knowing you hate me amor, I love you- ” 

“No you don’t miles, please just go away please-”

Miles pulls you closer to him and passionately kisses you, you didn’t mean to but you instantly melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around him. He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you in, as if you couldn’t be any closer. His lips were soft and warm, and so was his lanky but muscular body. He moved his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and wiping away the remaining tears. 

Because you both have to live, you both pull away and breathe. 

“I’m sorry Príncipe, I really am but please give me another chance! Please” He began kissing your face all over, making you slightly giggle but not much. You're still very much still upset. 

“Please love me again mi amor, please” Miles begged as he cupped your face so gently as if you were glass. 

“...I never stopped loving you Miles, but your hurting me” 

“How do you expect me to react?” 

Miles saw the heartbreak in your eyes, it was tearing him apart inside and he hated it. 

“I promise I’ll make time for you colibrí, I promise” he told you, kissing your lips again. 

“Can you make time for me now? My parents don’t come back home till 12” 

“I-” Before he can say anything, his phone buzzes. You instantly panic and cling to him

“NO No no please Miles stay here, PLEASE miles…please” you pleaded as he reached for his phone. 

“ I have to see if it’s my mama at least y/n” 

“Please don’t leave me…” you whisper as a tear runs down your cheek

Those last words shattered Miles…but he had to check. He opened his phone and saw a text message from his mama, the text said that she’ll be working late. A small smile escaped Miles’ mouth. 

“I’m not going anywhere mi amor, mi mamas working late” he said as he cuddled you

You looked like you just won the lottery by the way you were smiling. You pull Miles into a passionate kiss. You could feel Miles smiling through the kiss as he melted into it. After a moment passed you both pulled away for air. 

“I see you got your hair braided” Miles said, touching a braid in on your head with his thumb. 

“I was hoping you would notice; I like matching with you” you muttered, blushing a bit. 

“How about I take you somewhere papi? My treat!” He said with a smile 

“Miles…I just want to be here with you” 

“Ok then, take out?”  he asked with an eyebrow up

“ My mom left some food for me, and I’m ok with sharing” 

So you and Miles made up over the night. You played video games, watched movies, and just cuddled through the evening. Near 11:30-ish you got tired and Miles took notice of it. You two were cuddled in bed and you were slowly and quickly drifting off to sleep.  He smiled and kissed your temple. 

You looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. You truly didn’t know how Miles felt about you, to him you were his light in the darkness of the new york city. You, his uncle, and Rio are the only people that are keeping him going these past 3 years. He couldn't be more appreciative of you, no matter how bad things got you still tried to make him smile. You still tried to make him laugh. You still tried to make him happy, He loved you more than life itself for that. 

You were fully asleep at this point but with a smile on your face. You held Miles tightly, because even in your sleep, you felt as if Miles was going to disappear. 

“I don’t deserve you y/n…but I’m gonna try to make you happy” 

It was 11:49 and Miles knew he had to go, so he slowly crept out of your bed and made sure to tuck you in. After that he turned off the movie and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Once that was all done, he went back into your room. Seeing your beautiful brown skin being highlighted with the purple city lights made his heart strongly flutter. 

You were the most gorgeous boy he ever laid eyes on, and from now on he would try to make you happy and feel appreciated. He walked over to your bed and kissed your four head,

“Goodnight Príncipe, I will make everything better for you. Starting tomorrow”

Your night was filled with beautiful dreams of you and miles as the night went on. When you woke up there was a note under your pillow. You only noticed because there was a necklace slightly hidden under it. The necklace was half a heart with what seemed to be your first name initial. 

When you took the necklace from under the pillow a note was attached to it, you opened it and read;

Good morning mi amor, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend so I plan on making it up to you later today. Meet on the roof of your apartment building at eight pm sharp, I’ll have a few surprises for you up there. 

Your lover, Miles 

You smiled to yourself and held the necklace close to your chest, or to be more frank, your heart. 

God he makes me act like such a girl

-

It was 7:58 and you were dressed in some new clothes you bought with some of Miles’ money. That he left by your closet before he left. They were black jordan air’s with purple laces and purple tones. You had a black jacket with purple pants and shirt, and to make it even better you wore some tres leches perfume because Tres leches is Miles’ favorite dessert. 

You also had on some black gloves with the fingers cut off, you were going for a more punk aesthetic if you couldn’t tell. After you exploded at Miles the other night you wanted to wear his favorite colors and scents as a sorry. Even though you had nothing to be sorry about. 

Now at 7:59 you walk up the firescape steps to see your boyfriend. A part of you was saying he wasn’t there and that you were doing this for nothing but you pushed those thoughts away. And now at the top of the roof, you see Miles’ sitting there on a red checkerboard blanket with food and gifts on top of it. Your favorite song, hummingbird, was softly coming out of the radio next to him. Not to mention he was wearing your favorite color(s). 

Miles looks up at you and smiles, then he gets up and hugs you. Fully relaxing as you embrace him…and because of the tres leches perfume. He sniffs the crook of your neck, causing you to giggle. 

“You smell good” he chuckles and sniffs you more

“I know you like tres leches so I did a little something for ya, ya know” you say in between giggles. 

“Ok miles stop please-AGH!” Without warning, Miles picks you up bridal style and sits you on the picnic blanket and sits down next to you. 

The air was nice, the evening sun made the sky full of orange, yellow, and soft purple colors. You noticed how the colors compliment Miles’ features a lot. You were trying so hard not to smile…but you were falling. 

“Whatchu smilin ‘bout colibrí” Miles smirks, knowing full well why you were smiling. 

“Can’t I just smile bro? Dang!” you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck trying to look away. 

Miles gets closer to you, grabs your chin, and softly forces you to look at him. This causes you to smile even more and try to cover your face but Miles wasn’t having it. He got on his knees and kissed you. Once again, you melted into him and smiled as you did. 

Once you pulled away you cupped his face, staring into his beautiful hazel eyes. And he, staring into your beautiful e/c eyes. 

“Hey Miles’ I uh, I’m sorry for blowing up last night I should’ve -” Miles put his finger on your lips

“I’m gonna need you to hush for a moment, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anybody should be apologizing’ it should be me” He said sternly, never leaving your gaze. 

“I f*cked up as your boyfriend…and I’m really sorry for that colibrí. I’ll try my best to make sure you know I love you and..and all that. I love you more than anything y/n. I will move universes, I’ll kill for you…I will take a bullet for you in a heartbeat” he says, putting his forehead on yours. 

“ I will always protect you my príncipe, with my life” 

Tears were forming in your eyes, you knew Miles loved you but you never really knew what he was thinking and this…this is how he felt about you? This day couldn’t be anymore perfect. 

“You are the light of my life y/n. Always will be” 

You tightly hug Miles as you cry, he notices as you sniffle into his shoulder, 

“Colibrí?”

“I love you too Miles. I love you so much.” 

-

Translation

príncipe: prince

colibrí: hummingbird

[corpsebasil]

Quiet -> Part 2 18+

Summary: after the prince confesses his feelings to you, he takes you to town and then to your bed.

You were sleeping soundly, lost in a dream. A memory.

“Y/N!” Nikolai called, jogging up to you. Your head snapped up from where you were reading in the library, lost in a fantasy novel about princes and dragons. He was out of breath, a broad grin on his face.

You’d seen him around a lot, smiling at you kindly, offering you a cheesy wink here and there. It did nothing but make you flustered, unused to attention from most men, let alone a prince. The few guys you’d liked had balked when they realized you couldn’t speak, a condition you’d dealt with since birth. It didn’t hinder you useless—you were a strong Grisha, and a kind soul, and Nikolai saw that in you.

Here he was now, breathing hard as he raced into the library, excited and flushed. He waved his hands madly, trying to form symbols, and you raised your eyebrows. He frowned, trying again, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to remember. Your dress looks lovely, he signed, successfully now, and your face went pink so quickly you almost got lightheaded.

He signed again, eyebrows raised in question, repeating his compliment as a slow smile spread across your pretty face. You signed back, a simple thank you, and were pleasantly surprised to see him smile back.

-

The weeks that followed included you teaching Nikolai sign language, him often visiting you, and you finding any excuse you could to see the prince when he wasn’t actively seeking you out. You told him about yourself, writing things down when he didn’t catch on swiftly enough, but the prince was a fast learner, and within six months of speaking with him he was practically fluent. A year passed, and then he was.

You woke up, blinking away the sleep from your eyes, a soft smile still on your face from the memory. You sat slowly, groggy and tired, and slipped out of bed, your bare feet padding into the living-room. Then you froze, staring across your room, at Nikolai’s sleeping form on your couch.

He’d come like he’d promised last night. You both had had your fair share of vodka, playing cards until you were silently laughing so hard it hurt your stomach, Nikolai’s gorgeous laugh of his own echoing around the living-room. You’d offered for him to spend the night and he had—though he’d refused to share your bed, saying he didn’t want you to think he wasn’t a gentlemen.

But then there was the kissing.

Almost a half hour of it, his body pressing yours into the couch, slotted between your legs, mouth so intoxicating that if you could’ve moaned you would’ve. He only kissed you, yes, but it was so heated and sensual you could’ve died right there, melting underneath the touch of his hands and tongue.

Now you moved towards him, reaching a hesitant hand to his shoulder before you stopped. You moved silently to your mini-kitchen, an installment special for you alone thanks to your humiliating inability to converse at dinner—Nina had convinced you a few times, sure, but then you’d begged Nikolai for some way to eat privately—and you began to turn on your kettle, warming up water.

You heard a groan and turned your head, watching as Nikolai rubbed his eyes, curled up cutely under the blanket you’d given him. He blinked sleepily and looked at you, a small smile immediately growing on his face.

“My favorite woman.” He greeted you, and you looked away with a smile. You pulled out two cups as you heard his feet padding against the floor, his arms looping around your waist from behind as he propped his chin on your shoulder. “Good morning.” He mumbled, burying his face down against your neck as he kissed the warm skin there. Once. Twice.

Good morning, you signed, turning to kiss his temple as you began pouring water into two mugs, dipping teabags inside. He groaned against your skin and you got goosebumps, surprised at the sudden vibration and noise.

“I could spend every morning like this.” He said, planting another kiss against your skin. “What’s the plan for the day? Morning make-out session? Better yet, morning sex?” You shot him a mock glare as he wiggled his eyebrows, a boyish laugh bursting from him. “Kidding, love.”

Your face still flushed though, and his hands slipped around your waist.

“Hey, hey.” He chuckled, giving you a ridiculously soft look. “I’m just messing with you, okay? No pressure.”

I’m not used to this. You said, pulling away from him. You’re you. I’m still nervous about it. You frowned, peering up at his beautiful eyes, so filled with adoration. Are you sure you want this?

With all my heart. He replied, leaning in to brush a chaste kiss against your mouth. Then he picked up the mugs of tea, offering one to you. “Shall we visit town today?”

-

Your visit was exciting, to say the least.

There was a winter festival occurring in town and Nikolai fussed the entire time before you left, bundling you up in a big coat and gloves, boots on your feet, before he busied you out into the cold with him. He felt like a giant puffball—aka, utterly ridiculous—but it was chilly outside.

As you walked through the street with him, arm looped through his, your face burned at every amazed glance towards the prince, and the curious glances towards you. He led you towards the festivities, towards children laughing and playing, towards couples dancing, all gathered in the center of town. You gasped at the sight of a large Yulemas tree, the twinkling lights filling the sky.

You tugged on Nikolai’s arm, feeling childish as he laughed aloud, following you into the throng of people.

The two of you spent all day together, snacking on cinnamon buns and hot chocolate. Nikolai burnt his tongue and you grinned, smiling widely, and you looked so cute in the moment that Nikolai couldn’t help it. He bent his head to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting of chocolate and sugar, but you pulled away quickly, eyes wide.

His eyebrows furrowed.

What is it? He asked, frowning. Did I upset you?

Not in public. You urged. People will gossip.

I don’t care.

I care.

“Why?” He asked, this time aloud, looking slightly hurt. “Why don’t you want—”

You waved your hands around, shushing him, your face flushed with color. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want your reputation to be smeared.

“My reputation?”

Being caught with the mute Grisha.

“I don’t care!” He scoffed, whisper-yelling, trying not to cause a scene. “I—” He was frustrated as he rubbed your shoulders with his hands, bending his head to look at you. “I care about you. I like you. I told you that.”

I don’t want to embarrass you. You told him, eyes sad as you looked up. And he knew it was true. Knew that you’d be his secret if that’s what he wanted.

“Please.” He begged, kissing your forehead. “You’re mine.” Another kiss, this time your temple. “All mine.” Now your cheek, and you blushed further, a reluctant smile on your face. “Come on. You’re my favorite girl. Right?”

After a moment you nodded and, this time, you let him kiss you in front of the strangers in the town.

-

He tugged you towards a booth, the sky long past dark, and bought two mugs of hot cider. The night had gotten colder and there was a group of villagers singing Yulemas carols, candles lit around the town and the lights on the tree bright. You were sleepy at this point, exhausted from the long day, but happy. Happier than you’d been in a long time.

You rested your head on Nikolai’s shoulder as you watched the singers, your lips moving silently along to the words of the familiar songs. Nikolai slipped his hand into your own, squeezing your fingers in his, and took a sip of his cider.

“Having fun?” He asked, looking down at you, his soft smile tired as well. “Wanna go back soon?”

Yes. You nod, yawning as you sip your own drink.

As soon as the both of you are done you move back towards the castle, eager for the palace’s warmth. If the guards at the front doors have any comments or thoughts about your arm looped through Nikolai’s, they don’t say anything. Nor do they even blink in response to him scooping you up bridal style and carrying you to your room, your head resting against the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Feeling tired, love?” Nikolai murmured, opening your door and carrying you to bed. You waved your hands incoherently towards him, allowing him to set you on your feet.

He tugged off your jacket and gloves, then watched you kick off your boots and yawn, rubbing your tired eyes. He smiled at you, watching you rub your face, before you looked at him.

I’m going to take a bath. You said, blinking at him.

Can I come here after? He asked, and you nodded, fighting a blush.

He left, then, and you put up the rest of your clothes, drawing your bath and sinking into it. After scrubbing your skin and washing your face, your hair pinned up to stay dry, you climbed out, pulling a thin black nightgown over your head as you climbed into bed. You hardly had to wait fifteen minutes before Nikolai entered your chamber, walking into your bedroom.

Couch? He questioned, and you shook your head, tapping the bed beside you.

I’m cold. You signed and he smiled, moving to get under the covers with you.

Body heat. He replied, tugging his shirt off, and you gulped at the sight of his broad, muscular chest, all tan skin and flawless build. This okay?

You only nodded, allowing him to slip in beside you, curling up face to face. He tossed a leg over yours as he traced a hand down your temple and cheek, stopping at your jawline as he pulled you in to kiss you. His mouth was sweet and soft, his tongue slipping in carefully to touch yours.

Your fingers went to his hair as his arms pulled you into him, a soft noise of pleasure from him filling your mouth as you tugged at the strands. Your eyes squeezed shut, your noses touching, when he smoothly rolled you onto your back.

You looked up at him, blinking, as he smiled shyly. He allowed your arms to lift when he spoke, watching for your reaction.

“Is this okay?” He asked. “I don’t want to push you into anything.”

I want this. You said, peering up with wide, doe eyes. I want you.

His eyebrows furrowed.

“You sure? If it’s too soon—”

You took his face into your hands and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. He sighed into you, pressing his body down against yours, and you could’ve died at the warmth and weight of the prince. He moved to kiss your neck, paying attention to the way you reacted. To your pulse point, which he licked as he moved down.

He massaged your hips and waist as he pushed your dress up over your head, before freezing. His eyes snapped up to yours and you flushed.

“No underwear?” He demanded, raising a brow, then looked back down. “Shit, Y/N. You wanted this, huh?”

You felt a bit pleased at his reaction and nodded.

“Good god.” Then he looked up again, brow furrowed. “I hate to be rude but…are you a virgin?”

You blushed. Hard. And looked away. His hand took yours and he squeezed it, eager for you to make eye-contact. When you did, his expression was so kind, so soft, that you found yourself nodding. He placed a kiss on your stomach, feeling your squirm at the tickling sensation, and his warm huff of laughter against your skin gave you goosebumps.

“I just wanna make you feel good, my love.” He murmured and your heart raced at his words. “So good.”

He moved lower and you gulped, closing your legs tightly as he lowered himself between them. “You’ve got to relax for me, love.” He told you, glancing up, and you shut your eyes as he pried your thighs apart. “Tap my head twice if you want me to stop, okay?” You nodded, his eyes still watching you, before he dipped his head down and put his mouth on you.

You jolted, gripping his hair as he licked slowly, soft kitten licks against your center and your sensitive bud. You swallowed, trembling slightly at the foreign sensation—at the feeling of his tongue and mouth lapping at you, sucking at you and—oh. Oh. His tongue slid inside and your back arched, your hand tightening on his hair. He paused, lifting his head, and looked at you.

“This okay?” He asked, voice hoarse. You stuck your hand out, your free hand, and he laced his fingers with yours as you nodded vigorously, your breath short. “You look so beautiful, my dear.” He sighed, then continued his actions, licking you until you shattered, trembling so hard you wished had the voice to cry out.

You felt like you wanted to sob when he continued to lick, and then his voice hit your skin, his hand reaching up to slowly trace the outside of you.

“I’m gonna ease a finger in, alright?” Nikolai said. “Squeeze my hand once if that’s okay.” You did, and he huffed out a breath before slowly, slowly, sliding one into you.

You tensed at the unfamiliar sensation but then you were pushing your hips up towards his hand, enjoying the feeling of it. When he added a second you gasped, sucking in air as he curled his fingers. He kept moving them in and out, slowly, feeling you clench around him as he bit his lip hard, his eyes glazing over as he watched.

“Fuck…” he groaned, and looked up at you, meeting your eyes. “Can I…” he swallowed. “Do you want more? Squeeze for yes—” but he laughed, cut off as you yanked him up towards you, both squeezing his hand and nodding at the same time. “Okay, okay.” He grinned, settling over you as he kissed you, his fingers sliding into your hair as he pressed his mouth to your own.

When he pulled back, looking at your dazed expression, he felt a pang of love for you so intense he could’ve sobbed. Instead he swallowed past the lump of his throat, trying to keep his expression lighthearted, as he guided himself between your legs. His mouth kissed yours, over and over, as he pushed in, feeling your body immediately lock up in protest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He promised, stilling instantly. Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him, brow knit tight. “I’m sorry baby, I know. But you have to relax.” He threaded his fingers through yours again, feeling you squeeze his hand hard enough to crush bone. He’d take the pain, though. For you. “Just—shit baby—just tell me when, okay?”

You took a few deep breaths, you fingers still gripping his, the other hand on his bare shoulder, before you nodded a fraction. He moved slightly deeper and you hissed through your teeth. It hurt a lot more than you’d imagined—it felt like you were tearing, burning inside out, and you let out a shaky breath as a tear ran down your cheek. But when you looked up at Nikolai, seeing those blue eyes of his filled with so much concern, you gritted your teeth and lifted your hips a fraction.

More more more and then..

And then…

Your eyes closed as you let out a slow breath, your grip on his hand relaxing. You nodded again, unable to open your eyes, as he bottomed out, then pulled back slowly. When he slid back in again, the flash of pleasure that ran through you made you suck in air so fast you almost choked.

“I’m here, baby.” Nikolai murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead. Your neck. “All yours.”

You could’ve cried harder, the tears of pain dying on your face, as the overwhelming feeling of him made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You pushed your hips up again, meeting his, and your eyes almost rolled back into your head.

‘Oh god’, you thought. ‘So this is why everyone does it.’

“Y/N..” Nikolai breathed, face pressed against your neck as he held you, his body heaving as he thrusted in slowly and shallowly. “Squeeze my hand if…if I can move a bit quicker.”

You did, and he cursed under his breath when he snapped his hips against yours, the tightness of you almost unbearable. Then he let out a whining moan against your skin and you dug your nails into his back, the sound of him making you feel impossibly more turned on than you already were. And when he moved faster, harder, the pleasure was so blinding you could’ve sobbed against him.

“Fuck you feel so—oh god.”

You wished you could tell him the same thing, because the feeling of him, combined with the way he sounded, made you feel closer and closer back to that intense explosion of pleasure you’d felt from his tongue. You felt it building, coiling up, especially when he slid a hand in between the two of you to rub at your sensitive bud.

It didn’t take long.

You opened your mouth on a soundless cry as you bowed into him, pressed up against the prince. He let out a choked moan and came too, shuddering against you as you squeezed him tight. He stayed on top of you for several minutes, catching his breath, before he sat up to grab his t-shirt to clean you off.

When he wiped the both of you and there was a bit of blood, your eyes widened.

“It’s normal,” Nikolai said, seeing your expression. “don’t worry.” Then he tugged his boxers back up to slide into bed, pulling your nightgown back down over you.

You snuggled up into him, relaxed and loopy feeling, as if you’d just injected him into your veins and you were high on him. He smiled down at you, kissing you on the head as he held you close.

“I love you.” He whispered, breathing it against your hair, and you squeezed him tighter. He looked down and you were teary-eyed. You removed your hands from him to answer.

I love you too.

[mamayan]

Hii can I request Gyomei x prostitute fem reader nsfw.....plsss

Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader

cw: NSFW • Darker Themes • Attempted murder (of reader) • Fem! Reader • prostitute reader • Fluff/Comfort • Size kink • Breeding kink • Sub/switch! Reader • Edging/Denial • Overstimulation • Oral (F)

“Namu Amida Butsu. Pitiful creature.” He doesn’t need vision to understand what was going on in the lively square of the red district tonight.

Normally a bubble of carnal desires and pleasure, many forgot the festering underbelly of this part of the city. He’s on a mission, needs to focus and do his job, but something keeps stopping him.

Possibly the kakushi by his side crying softly, pitying the poor soul on a trial meant to convict whether the offending party is guilty or not. How can an upright samurai be in the wrong in any way? It must be the fault of the lowly whore which should have known her place. Such disgusting beliefs made his gut churn, but he’s aware there is little one can do in this situation.

He needs to leave, walk away, and kill the demon living just on the outskirts of this district.

So why won’t his feet move?

“This bitch is getting what she deserves, and let her serve as a warning to all the workers in the district!”

“Oh no, is he going to decapitate her?!” The kakushi beside him gasps in horror, drawing his focus away from his chants to regain his will power and instead breaking his concentration as he focuses on the slurred drunk words of a man. The crowd is thickening, attention drawn to the spectacle but most of all, the promise of blood shed. “Gyomei-sama…” it would appear the kakushi wishes him to intervene.

He can’t. He’s not supposed to anyway. He knows nothing of the woman’s crimes nor any clear indication on how to pass judgement.

“For trying to run from the great Habuyoshi who mearly admired the beauty! For daring to raise these weak fists at the great Habuyoshi! For biting the dick of the great Habuyoshi! I am putting this filthy dog down!” The crowd was cheering, jeering him on, even begging he kill her after violating her for the crowd to watch, or wanting to do it themselves. Gyomei had heard the red light district was filled with glistening gold and red, and it enrages his heart to think such an auspicious color is tied to such a festering diseased place. No one won here. Ever.

Before the kakushi could move, he’d already made his presence known, easily knocking the samurai unconscious.

The crowd stared in awe and fear of the enormous man wielding only prayer beads, defeating the well known samurai of the area so easily with only a single blow.

“Who owns this prostitute?”

None speak up for a moment, tension thick in the air as a savior appears for a once thought dead woman.

“M-me…” an elderly woman far past her prime shakily steps out, her guilty and shifty expression not seen by the man looking at nothing, but her nervous energy radiated off in waves for all to feel.

“I’ll buy her.”

“Gyomei-sama?!”

“Huh—?”

You awoke with minimal pain.

The jarring events of the night prior swirling in your mind and dumbfounding you because what was that?

You nearly died because a strange man grabbed you off the street while you were running an errand and tried to rape you in an alley way. Of course you fought back, but it seems that’s a crime if the perpetrator is stronger than you.

Tears fell despite your anger. You were no longer a prostitute, your freedom seemingly bought out of kindness but you knew not to trust anything given freely. There’s always a price, and your life thus far had taught you to be witty and at least somewhat charming. Though it hardly did much for you last night when the crowd roared for your execution like your life meant so little.

Your new owner is more terrifying than your previous house mother. At least she’d been open about her greedy vile mindset, but this man is nothing short of an enigma. Why did he save you? What is the purpose? What should you do now? It left you riddled with anxiety as you sat in a bed more comfortable than you could ever remember sleeping in, the blankets and pillows too of better quality than the red light district ever provided even for the top courtesans. You’d been given plain but high quality clothing as well, allowed to bathe alone, and then fed a vegetarian meal so delicious you wondered if the Buddhist monks had it much better than you gave them credit for.

Now you slept, in a room all to yourself, with no idea of what was to come next.

Did he want you as a wife? That didn’t seem right though. He didn’t appear the romantic type, and his size alone mildly frightened you despite his soft demeanor and speech. Were you to act as a servant? Did he wish to sell you to another area and call it good karma, leaving the matter as that? It ate away until you could no longer stand it, rising from the bed you longed to stay in forever, and slipping out of your room to explore the estate.

It’s shockingly empty.

Not a soul in sight as you explored, stealing bread from the kitchen as you walked, pondering the possibility of ghost servants. You felt silly and dismissed it, but the eerie silence was begining to get to you. You turned and headed for an opening, finally finding a serene courtyard. You were awestruck by the landscape, attention quickly caught as you spot a small pond with a bridge.

Hope bloomed and then flourished as you spotted several fat pretty koi swimming about, different colored patterns moving around and hypnotizing you.

“Ssshhwink!” You jolted in shock at the loud sound of a blade being struck, eyes honing in on the source as you see a training ground of sort in the distance.

Shock was the least of your current emotions as you watched the enormous man, your supposed savior for now, swing around an axe and spiked flail attached to a very long chain. Surrounding him were multiple dummies, made from steel, as if you weren’t already shocked silly. For someone so large, he was graceful and fast, skilled in each tiny movement and it nearly made you think of a dance you’d seen long ago at a festival when you were a child.

He’s no one ordinary. That’s clear enough, and he’s not a samurai it seemed either.

He could kill you quicker than that man before and he could’ve killed that man too but chose not to. Your heart trembled, because you knew those that hesitated left empty handed, and if his goal was merely to rescue and abandon you then you’d find yourself back to being sold off or worse.

You needed him to keep you, no matter how his appearance made your knees weak.

“Are you hungry?”

One week. You’d been in his estate one week and this was the first conversation you’d had with him since that night he saved you.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Thank you.” He accepts the lunch you prepared, as you learned fast that once he’d brought you into his estate, he’d been abandoned by his cooks. His servants who cleaned or kept things in order were incredibly well trained and avoided you similarly. You’d been cooking his meals and leaving them outside his room in the morning, and he’d usually be gone for most of the day until very late evening where you’d leave his dinner outside his small study or prayer room.

This was your first chance to initiate contact with him, and it made you swallow your nerves as you came up eye level with his abdomen. He accepts the tray, sitting at the small table in the open courtyard. He repeats his chants while you observe him up close for a moment.

He is handsome in a rugged way. His scars surprisingly only adding character. His thin lips and long lashes would’ve made many woman jealous as well.

“This is very delicious. You’re a good cook.” You startle lightly from your day dream as you stare at him with wide eyes, his face still tilted down as he eats.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hadn’t expected to find your company so pleasant.

Your presence was easy, comfortable and enjoyable after you warmed up more, chattering away similarly to the love Hashira at times. It made a strange sort of fondness form in his chest as he listens to your opinion on cherry blossom season, and why mochi is best served cold.

He finds himself rushing now after missions to return to his estate, something he’d never have done in the past. If only to hear your greeting of “welcome home” which makes the estate he’d been given actually feel like one.

You held his hand a few days ago, pulling him quickly and quietly to feel the soft fur of a sleeping cat you’d taken to adopting. He remembers the feel of your skin, the fragility of your hand within his, and how tiny you are. It shouldn’t affect him like this. Yet even as he sits below the icy fall of water in a lotus pose, his aching erection won’t ebb.

He’s ashamed the first time he wraps one big calloused palm around his leaking shaft and fucks his fist to the thought of you.

He’s even more ashamed when those thoughts haunt him in your presence.

He’s alarmed however when he wakes tonight to the sound of his shoji sliding open. Not by the intruder, your footsteps much louder ironically when you attempt to be quiet, but by the timing.

He released his cock and laid still, strangely nervous to appear asleep should you check.

Why were you in his room?

He chants in his mind when he hears fabric rustling, then a plop on the floor as something slides and falls. Were you… undressing?

His room felt hotter, or it may have possibly been him, as the sound of you nearing alerts him to a reason you’re here tonight.

“I know you are awake.” You sound bemused.

“I know you should be in bed.” He replies more shakily than he’d hoped to sound.

“I am trying, but you won’t seem to move over for me.” His breath hitches, and before he can think he’s scooting aside and feeling anxious for the first time in a long time. He’s too old now to be fearful of such a tiny woman, your charms and allure certainly difficult to dismiss but you shouldn’t make his hands sweat like this.

“Fuck,” he doesn’t mean to curse, but when you press your nude figure tight against his side, he nearly embarrasses himself by finishing what he’d started before you’d interrupted. Not that he nor his cock minded your company, in fact it twitched as if excited about your presence.

“It feels better if you face me.”

“What are you doing?” He feels flustered, hands desperate to grab you but unsure exactly if he should.

“Seducing you…?” He hears now the unsure tone you speak with, the way your fingers curl into his yukata to prevent him from pushing you away. He shifts and turns, the futon thankfully custom for his size and fitting you fully as he finally touches you. Your face first at least.

“Are you looking at me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I pretty?” He chuckles, smile making you press your thighs together due to the sheer masculine charm he oozed.

“You are soft.” He drops his voice as he presses a hand to the middle of your back and pulls you closer. His body radiates heat like none other you’ve ever felt, all pillowy muscles and smelling of sandalwood and sage, and something else beneath it that made your teeth ache. “You are considerate and empathetic.” His hands smooth over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips. “You are cute and witty, I find I laugh most in your presence.” His thumbs lightly graze over your eyes. “You are intelligent. I feel I can confide in you and be understood.” Down your jaw and chest, over your shoulders and down your arms to your hands shaking lightly. “You are also mischievous, I never know what you’ll come up with…” his hands come back up, one loosely and easily encircling your entire throat. “Like sneaking into a man’s room in the middle of the night and climbing into his bed naked.” He means to sound chastising but his lust is difficult to mask. Your giggle lets him know you take it lightly.

“Not some man’s room… your room, Gyomei.”

It’s like you want to set him off.

“Should I go?” He can’t deny the way it ignites him to have you here.

“No.” He groans lightly, hands finally taking the dip you’d both been aching for and feeling your chest. “You don’t get to leave now. At least not until you explain what is it is you search for.”

“Relief?” He frowns, but becomes quickly distracted by the malleable flesh in his hands, thumbs brushing over pebbled nipples and drawing little sighs from you.

“A-and… I guess confirmation.” He pinches on little bud, rewarded with a tiny moan and the arching of your back.

“Confirmation for what?” He murmurs, debating if you being atop him would be easier.

“That you like me.” He halts, startled by the confession.

“You thought I didn’t like you?” He clarifies, finally deciding and easily lifting you up by the hips to sit on his stomach, thighs on either side of him.

“I didn’t know if it was the sort between lovers or not…” he nods, finally understanding.

“I want you deeply, sweet girl.” He doesn’t miss the shiver which shakes you when he calls you that, smile tilting higher into a crooked smirk as he lifts his hands and runs them over your ass, gently squeezing each cheek and then moving to touch your thighs.

You don’t speak as he feels you up, quiet aside from small pleasurable mewls when he plays with your breasts or spreads your ass and let’s cool air hit your cunt.

“Do you touch yourself?”

“Y-yes…?”

“To the thought of me?” You feel your body heat.

“Yes. Always to the thought of you.” Your answer makes him groan, hips rutting up into nothing as he squeezes your hips.

“What do I do to you then, in your fantasies.” He’s desperate to know, desperate to recreate it. Your nails dig into the muscle on his chest, dwarfed on top of him like this.

“Oh, well, I… sit on your face.” He quirks a brow at the odd fantasy, unfamiliar with such an act.

“And do what?”

“Let you lick me, down here.” He allows you to guide his hand to the warmest place on your body, his mind blanking as he realizes.

“Oh.”

“We don’t have to do that though, let’s do what you want—oh!” He’s hauling you up like a doll onto his face, thighs spread on either side and your pussy spread and easily accessible now for his mouth. Gyomei doesn’t hesitate now, tongue slipping out as dragging through your folds as if he’s done this before. He hasn’t but he makes up for it with his wide and powerful tongue and eagerness to learn.

“Gyomei! I—ngh~!” Your moan when he licks at your pussy is more than he ever imagined. The wanton swivel of your hips as you grind down only make him more feral, large hands firmly on your ass and keeping you pressed down. Oxygen the least of his concerns as he licks and sucks until your writhing and digging your nails into his hair while you cry out for him.

He likes this act much more than his own daydreams of being intimate with you, the heady taste of your slick and sounds of your pleasure like a drug.

“I’m going to cum—!” You’re so close it’s a wonder you don’t tip over even as he lifts you completely off his face.

“H-huh?” You sound dazed and confused, so cute it makes him want to settle you down on his face again but he stops himself.

You’re on your back, looking up at his figure not blanketing you, one arm keeping him up as he lifts your chin and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips.

“You can’t cum yet.” You feel irritable having your orgasm denied, pouty expression unseen but tone converting your emotions.

“Why?” Gyomei smiles, kissing you again and forcing your mouth open to play with your tongue, sliding his thigh between your own so you can grind on him for relief.

He breaks away with a string of saliva connecting you for a moment, warm breath fanning over you. “It will hurt taking me, but it will hurt less if you cum while I’m inserting it.”

Oh. It made sense actually.

Except he doesn’t move ahead to fucking you like you wanted, asking you for more fantasies you‘ve had of him.

“Using your fingers…” and he opened you up more than any man has ever with his fingers alone. Two alone stuffing your poor cunt seemingly to max and once more bringing you to the edge until you felt like crying when he pulled away.

“Shh,” he cooes, mildly upset he’s causing you distress and equally amused by how cute he finds your grumbling as he rearranges you again. This time he just rolls your clit gently with his thumb and kisses you, lavishing your neck in love bites you’ll surely need help covering in the morning and then giving attention to your breasts.

“Gyomei please!” Your third denial felt nearly painful, your core cramping with the desperate need for release as you wiggle and struggle beneath him.

“You’ll be very sorry if I take you now, be good for me, little lotus.” He kisses away your tears of frustration, once more spearing you open with two fingers until you’re moaning and rolling your hips into him, then he adds a third.

He stills when you hiss in pain, concern painting his features as he moves to pull them out only for your hand to stop him.

“It’s okay! I’m alright, it just stings a little.”

“We can stop here, I’ll make you cum and we can go back to sleep—,”

“No! I want you, please.”

He feels hesitant until you begin to relax, body finally accepting three fat fingers stretching your little hole out as slick drips down his palm and soaks into bed below.

“G-Gyomei please let me cum, I can take you even if I do, I just need—!” You’re so close again, but he’s stringent as he pulls free from your soft tight walls with a pop. Your whine of frustration goes ignored as he finally reaches his own limit.

“I’m going to sit you in my lap.” You’re pliant in his hold as he sits up and drags you with him, placing your back to his front as he unties his yukata and allows himself to be free. He gives himself a few pumps, balls swinging heavy as he sits down with you.

You regret looking down in curiosity. Having known some men, despite being quite big physically, can have small penises.

Gyomei isn’t one of them apparently, his caution not without cause as you see the enormous cock he carries, the thick veiny shaft frightening and leaking pre-cum like a stream. Even his balls were ridiculously large, and you briefly pondered taking his offer of going to sleep.

You shook it off as you felt a gentle kiss to your temple, body relaxing as he began another round of torture to your clit with more gentle rolls with his fingers.

“Relax for me, you’re being so good, all mine,” he’s mumbling, body tense as he holds himself back and prepares mentally to keep calm as he lifts you up and lets the plush tip kiss your entrance. Then you’re feeling pleasure and pressure like nothing you‘ve ever felt before, mind going blank as you cum while he stuffs you to full capacity, Gyomei similarly struggling as he moans feeling your gooey walls contract and try to push him out even as gravity drags you down on his cock.

“Gyo—hah—!” You can hardly breathe, body struggling to connect the pain while you’re writhing pleasure as he wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up and down, still touching your swollen nub, bullying his cock into you one inch at a time. Your squeals of shock and euphoria nearly make him lose it, and when his tip finally smushes up against your cervix, he cums hard.

“I-I can feel it filling me—,” your eyes roll back as hot spurts of cum pump into your womb, Gyomei’s arm like an anchor as he groans and rocks you gentle against him.

“Feels so good…” he’d never known sex could feel like this, that you felt like this, but he’s unable to pull out despite his cock becoming sensitive. Instead he keeps you in place, plugging your little hole with his cock and keeping every drop of cum inside you where it belongs.

That thought startles him. Did he want to make you pregnant? Did he want a family?

More than anything—

Gyomei groans, hushing you as you whine and wiggle in his lap, feeling his cock swelling thick and hard again inside you. “Gyomei—s’too much,” you feel like you’ll burst, body already exhausted but he’s hardly done it seems as he begins to bounce you again, feeling more akin to a toy as his shaft splits your pussy open. The slick squelching noises blend with your moans and his grunts, his cock burying itself as deeply as possible each thrust as he murmurs praise down into your ear.

“So good for me. Taking all of me so well,”

“Do you like feeling my cum inside you? Do you want more?”

“I’m going to fill you up again, make you nice and full.”

“Going to put a baby inside you, let everyone know you’re mine now.”

You’re gone, too cock drunk to do much else but cum around him and moan, drool spilling down your chin in a thin line as he takes away all coherent thoughts.

You awake the next morning sore and groggy, face confused as you look at a room not your own.

You glance down at the arm keeping you trapped, merely draped over you but so weighted you’d need to wake him to move.

He got you filthy last night, cum coating all of you inside and out before he’d washed you and put you to bed. The memory brings heat to your face as you burry yourself into the bed and smile.

He’s yours now too.

Your story to be told as one from rags to riches.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 3)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Katniss and Peeta have it out during dinner. Bickering over who has a better chance of winning. Asking to be trained separately after that. It is an odd thing to get heated about and Haymitch is intrigued.

“We’ll explore that later,” he decides as the kids leave the table.

Effie tries her hand at small talk. “Tomorrow the tributes will be assessed. How are you feeling about that? I, for one, am hopeful that we might see a victor!”

“I feel like I need a refill.” Haymitch grunts, leaning up from his seat to reach the bottle, “and I feel like you,” he looks to his wife, “need a little bit of the good stuff to take the edge off.” He dumps the contents of her glass onto the floor, replacing it with the malt liquor of his choice.

“I’m going to bed.” Y/N pushes away from the table.

“Don’t be like that, angel.” Haymitch reaches out, catching her around the waist and pulling her against his side.

Y/N smooths a hand over his hair. “It’s been a long day, I’m tired.”

Haymitch begrudgingly releases his hold. “Go.”

“Night, Effie.” The woman waves in parting.

Effie clears her throat, “goodnight.” These people are awfully temperamental.

Y/N returns to her room, making for the tablet on the nightstand. Clicking open her files for Katniss and Peeta in turn. Adding archery and strength to their lists of abilities, then moving onto weaknesses, scribbling in at the top ‘uncontrolled rage and each other?’

Y/N opens that file last; the one where she jots down kind words for the tribute’s families. How they touched her life, how they made a difference in this world and will continue to do so. With the promise that they will live on in their hearts and hers, forever.

When she was reaped, a lifetime ago, Haymitch hadn’t been warm and fuzzy. Though he’d gone to the quarter quell with her maternal aunt. Allied with her to get to the top five, even held her hand as she died, Haymitch can’t bring himself to do much more than drink himself into a stupor.

“What exactly do you want me to do, girl?”

“I want you to help us!”

He’d left Y/N and her district partner, high and dry.

“Help you?” Haymitch laughs, “I can’t help you.” He couldn’t save Maysilee then, he can’t save Y/N now. He wonders if this is still part of his punishment for the force field, cruel and unusual in it’s crafting.

Even after she wins, set up in the house beside his in victor’s village, Haymitch still won’t speak more than a few words to her. That is until the next reaping rolls around.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” Y/N asks.

Back to the Capitol, back to hell.

“Think I’m gonna sit this one out. You’re due to take one for the team, right? I was a shit mentor anyhow. Not you though, you’ll be good.”

She isn’t good. All of sixteen marching a couple of thirteen year olds to their final resting place. Y/N is inconsolable upon her return, mailing letters to the families of the fallen tributes from twelve and shutting out the world.

Her mother, who’s struggled with a morphling addiction most of Y/N’s life, is worse now. Her father, the mayor, makes his best efforts to shield his daughters from it. They do what they can to support Y/N through her victory and the transition to her new life, all to no avail.

In the end there is only one person Y/N wants to comfort her, the only one who understands. She has a new respect for Haymitch after that. There is no pain in the world like this.

It takes three years, three years before she marches up to his door on reaping day and pounds against it, hard. “You’re coming with me.” Gone is the child she was, a woman standing in her place.

“And why would I do that?” Haymitch smirks, leaning heavily against the door frame.

“Because I need you.”

Slowly, they became friends. Haymitch was happy to be whatever, whatever she needed him to be.

She folds the tablet back in it’s case, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Crying is useless, she learned that sometime ago. Not a single outcome changed or a life saved with tears. Only knowledge and fact driven perseverance can do that. Yet she is more man than machine and sometimes sadness wins.

The door of their suite hums to life. Y/N tries, in vain, to hide the evidence; her moment of weakness.

“You know, you,” Haymitch stumbles in, pointing a finger at her, “have become highly predictable.” Going to bed with him or after him is the norm. Means she’s fine, maybe not great, but she’ll tough it out. Going to bed before him is nothing short of a cry for help. She’s reached her limit. Haymitch knew she was getting there, that’s why he offered the drink.

Y/N heaves in a breath, “don’t say I told you so.”

“Fine, but I did tell you so,” he frowns. For all his flaws, Haymitch does love her and hates that she’s in pain.

She opens her hand to accept the little blue pill in his palm, it’ll put her out for a few hours of much needed sleep. Y/N swallows it dry, forcing it down her throat.

“Lie down,” Haymitch jerks his chin toward the pillows. Pulling back the covers to tuck her in, his wife’s eyelids already heavy.

She babbles out a bit of nonsense, her tongue like lead. Not heeding her command.

“We can argue all day tomorrow.” He promises, soothing her to sleep with her hand in his. Peppering kisses to her knuckles as she loosens her grip. “Sweet dreams.”

————————————————————————

“So besides the bow, what else can you do?” Y/N asks Katniss, prepared to take notes.

“Might help if you look at me.”

“Hmm?” The woman snaps her head up.

“If you’re analyzing me for the next kids, it might help to look up every now and again.”

“I wasn’t-”

“You were.” Katniss cuts her off, with finality. “We’re all numbers to you anyway.”

Y/N offers a smile as she sets the tablet down. “You want my attention, you have it.”

“Don’t talk to me that way.”

“What way?”

“Like I’m a child,” Katniss furrows her brow.

“You are a child,” Y/N retorts. “I know you don’t want to be here and all that anger has to go somewhere.” She pushes off the training room bench and onto the mats. “Show me what you can do.”

The brunette charges her mentor, prepared to tackle her to the ground; only Y/N moves at the last second. Leaving Katniss face down on the ground. This only fuels her fire, she grabs Y/N’s ankle, tugging her off balance.

They carry on like this for a long while, ending with the pair covered in sweat, sprawled out on the mats.

“How can you do this?” Send kids off every year to fight and die. “You’re a mother.”

“I do this because I’m a mother,” Y/N whispers. “You’re not numbers to me, Katniss. You’re people. Who deserve to be treated with love and compassion, given access to every shred of useful information I have. That’s why I document everything. So I never forget.”

Katniss sees her then, as if for the first time.

Peeta finds them. “It’s time to switch,” he says.

Haymitch is waiting to help Katniss prep for the interviews and Peeta will now be…doing whatever this is.

Katniss musters the strength to drag herself away, glancing back at Y/N from the door. “Put that in my notes. Tell my sister I fought.”

————————————————————————

“As you know, the tributes are rated on a scale of one to twelve, after three days of careful evaluation.” Caesar narrates from the television.

Effie, Portia, Cinna, Peeta and Katniss have all joined the victors on the pristine white settee. Y/N slides forward to the edge, while Haymitch sinks back into the cushions. Feeling the familiar squeeze and release of her fingers against his knee as the results are displayed.

District twelve is last, the anticipation rises like bile in Y/N’s throat. The careers score nines and tens, the others a mix of fives through eights. Thresh, of district eleven pulled a nine, his partner Rue follows with a seven. Best of luck, sweet girl.

“From district twelve, Peeta Mellark; with a score of…eight.”

Portia gasps in delight, “Peeta!”

“Excellent.”

“An eight.” Y/N bumps his shoulder.

“We can work with that.”

“Bravo.”

Peeta smiles, relaxing marginally at the news.

“And finally, from district twelve, Katniss Everdeen; with a score of…eleven.”

“Eleven?!”

“I thought they hated me.” After she shot at their pig and all.

“They must have liked your guts.”

Cinna raises a toast. “To Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k

[blue-sadie]

So i've seen this edit about quaritch and spider with that song "oh i love it and hate it at the same time, you and i drinking posion from the same vine" and just image it; reader who has an avatar and neteyam as her mate and she told everybody that her mom was na'vi and her dad was an avatar. When lo'ak and neteyam went to save spider they see reader in her human form and she thinks neteyam is dissapointed in her. Her avatar dies and she has to live with neteyam in her human form. The reader thinks he hates her or smtg. I thank you very much if you could write my ideea or just react <3

Sorry this might not be exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it 😁

Our Love Is Pure

Neteyam x Human Reader

Summary: sometimes our thoughts get the best of us causing us either failure or fortune

Warning: music = lyrics, reader death (kind of)

3rd person pov

Neteyam watched the horizon hoping and praying to see Norman's helicopter but every time he does his heart just breaks all over again.

Telling myself I won't go there Oh, but I know that I won't care

You saved him, you pushed him out the way and took the bullet, the bullet that would've killed him but it killed you instead.

He held your avatar as it died he pleaded and begged for eywa to give you another chance you deserved it while he didn't he should have protected you he should have taken it not you.

With each day passing no news or sight of you, his heart arches more and more he struggles to look after himself but what he didn't know it was the same for you.

Tryna wash away all the blood I've spilt This lust is a burden that we both share Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer Souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt There's darkness in the distance

It took norm days just to get you to speak but with each word becomes more shakey, what is supposed to happen between the two of you.

You never really hung out with him in your human form mostly because of safety reasons would he still want to be with you.

Those thoughts were clouding your head most of the day you would spend in your room staring at the way norman says your eyes get duller by the day, your skin has become paler and your body thinner because of the lack of food and water.

From the way that I've been livin' But I know I can't resist it Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time You and I drink the poison from the same vine

Norman didn't know what to do he didn't know if contacting neteyam would help or just make it worse but what pushed him over the edge is when you came stumbling into the kitchen bearly holding yourself up.

You collapsed and he caught you before you hit the floor you blacked out, that was his breaking point they put you onto one of the med beds attaching an iv to your arm and made sure you were stable.

And once they knew you were safe he contacted jake to let him know about the situation and jake could almost say the same was happening there.

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

When jake finally told neteyam what happened with you neteyam finally expressed emotion other then sadness and finally did something other then stare out into the open sea.

He tried to get on his ikran but his father and mother tried to stop him and reason with him to stay.

He finally burst and let his emotions out shocking his parents screaming at them that he needs and too see you and how he would be dead without you

Tellin' myself it's the last time Can you spare any mercy that you might find If I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try Try to follow your light, but it's night time Please, don't leave me in the end

He yelled about all the times you were there for him and now he's gonna be there for you, his parents let him go because either he was going back.

The ride was long and terrible his lack of food and sleep was making his ikran nervous and almost crash afew times.

He finally felt relieved when he saw his home land in the distance and he spoke to himself praying that you would hear him, I'm coming baby hold on.

There's darkness in the distance I'm beggin' for forgiveness (ooh) But I know I might resist it, oh Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time You and I drink the poison from the same vine

He dodged the floating rocks and ignored as some ikran riders tried to talk to him as they flew past he didn't care all he cared about was you.

When he landed he could tell something was off when norman came running at him and telling him you need him.

He didn't even let norman finish and dashed into the lab his eyes widening as he saw the many scientists crowed around you.

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time You and I drink the poison from the same vine

His heart clench and his body began to sway with dizziness he already lost you once and he wasn't gonna lose you again.

He crouched at the head of you bed looking down at your face you and your avatar were almost identical.

He slowly and softly caressed your small face with his fingers as he spoke to you as tears streamed down his face, baby please don't do this to me I can't lose you again.

Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time Hidin' all of our sins from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight From the daylight, runnin' from the daylight Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time

He sat there even after the other scientists left he sat there staring at you his hand clenching yours He was to scared to let go.

To scared to lose you, it only took 2 hours before you woke you your face twisted in confusion as you felt someone holding your hand.

It took you a couple minutes to open your eyes but when they did they filled with tears, neteyam tried to hug you but all you did was push him away.

He felt rejected and hurt in till he heard you speak "why are you here" you sniffled he felt confused.

"W-what do you mean baby" he murmured trying to think of reasons you would rejected him.

"Neteyam my avatar is dead" your voice was strained and raspy "what does that have to do with anything" he asked sitting beside your bed.

You didn't know if was joking or just trying to fool you "n-nete i-" "do you think I'd just leave you because your avatar is dead".

It was like he could read my mind, I looked away from him ashamed "yn I fell for you, your beautiful personality not your body" he murmured caressing my face and bringing it to look at his.

"I fell for your clumsiness, your idiotic ideas that always get us into trouble I fell for you" his words drew a quiet giggle from you making him smile.

"I feel for your mind and heart"

Tag.List

@greekgods15

@sweetirilly

[ckret2]

I'd love to know more about Bartholomew, and how they befriended him! although it is very funny that something that wild happened entirely offscreen XD

I thought this would be short, but apparently I had more to say about Barty than I thought! So here:

Bartholomew was acquired from a crane game filled with haunted dolls that was set up at Gravity Falls' mall. I do not know why that crane game was there. It's just the kind of thing that happens in Gravity Falls. Each haunted doll is possessed by the evil ghost of a creepy Victorian child. Dipper & Mabel didn't discover this until the next night.

In life, Bartholomew was a 14-year-old necromancer who bound his spirit to a doll so he could live forever—which is why he happens to know so much about poppets and can teach the twins how they work. He's hoping they'll bind Bill to a poppet, he'll die, and he'll remain attached to the poppet, so Bartholomew will have a new haunted doll pal.

(He was not friends with the other dolls in the crane game machine. You know how it turns out wild wolves in normal packs are really friendly and cooperative with each other, and vicious alpha wolf dominance fights only happen when wolves are forced together in captivity and are stressed and defensive? Yeah. That crane game was cramped. Nobody made friends in there.)

He's spent over a century as your typical feared creepy haunted doll, shuffling between locked trunks and antique malls and dusty attics and paranormal investigators' houses that mysteriously burn down and thrift shops. His prior crimes could fuel a horror movie series fit to rival any Chucky or Annabelle you could think of.

His original ambition—as it always is when he's in a house with a boy age 12 to 17—is to murder the kid (and anyone who tries to stop him) and take over his life. We are unclear on how an immobile porcelain doll intends to pose as a living human child. I'm not sure he's ever thought through that part of the plan. He thought killing Dipper would've made a particularly sweet deal since he would've gotten a free sister out of it.

It turns out he does all this because he's desperately lonely and unloved after over a century as a creepy haunted doll, and he just wants a family and friends his own age again. Mabel quelled his murderous urges by saying he can have a bed and live in their room and be their friend as long as he doesn't kill anyone. Usually when kids find out he's alive, they run crying to the adults about the scary living doll begging to get rid of it, and the adults either don't believe them or join in trying to get rid of him. Running into a couple of kids that are totally chill with a haunted doll as long as he doesn't commit murder is a new experience for him. This is the most positive socialization he's had since he died. He's turned around real fast.

So far, Mabel and Dipper haven't told anyone else about Bartholomew. Not on purpose, they just kind of dealt with it on their own at like 3 a.m. and then never thought to bring him up to the adults. Even Bill hasn't noticed him yet. Probably in late August the kids'll end up in a conversation with the grunkles like "wait, did we really forget to mention the haunted doll we've been living with all summer??" Typically he only speaks in front of children. There's a chance Candy and Grenda have been told about him, but due to the Bill situation they haven't been over to meet Barty yet.

He was not in Gravity Falls last year and doesn't really get who Bill Cipher is. What he knows is that Bill is a cute girl who's allegedly a guy who's allegedly some kind of demon from space who can single-handedly destroy Earth. He's read War of the Worlds, he knows all about destroyers from space; but he didn't realize Martians have demons too. He just kind of accepts this all as true, but doesn't really fear Bill (except when he thinks Bill might be in a mood to smash delicate porcelain dolls).

Dipper and Mabel often catch him posed like he was doing something right before other people came in. Sometimes they come home and Barty is posed like he's been petting Waddles. They don't know if this means he's actually let Waddles see him move.

Have you ever watched The Boy? He looks and moves kind of like The Boy, although he's closer to the size of a baby doll and a bit less realistic. Creepy formally-dressed porcelain doll, only moves when nobody's in the room and/or looking at it.

His haunted doll powers include creepily turning off all the lights, writing messages on foggy windows/mirrors, causing disembodied knocking/rattling, slowly dragging the bedsheet off a sleeping child in the middle of the night, teleporting when no one's looking, slipping strange whispers into TV/radio/cassette audio, causing furniture to rearrange in strange ways during the night, and—if he gets really mad or distressed—he can briefly act as a poltergeist and make things levitate and fly around.

As a ghost possessing a doll, he's able to see other ghosts. This makes him—along with Bill, disembodied-Dipper, [redacted], [redacted], and sometimes [redacted]—one of the few members of the cast that can see the mindscape.

He secretly doesn't mind that Mabel calls him Barty Mew-Mew and is increasingly beginning to think he'd kind of like being a catboy. Mabel will be ecstatic when she finds out.