#so I wonder how that’ll change the book

[daydreamerdrew]

The Avengers (1963) #9

[cobaltperun]

Hey, love your writing.

So I was thinking something about (Fem)R and Tara being exes. Reader studying for finals or sum and getting a call from Chad, Mindy doesn't matter, where they ask (practically beg) R to come take Tara cause she got drunk AF and kept talking about R. So R goes and takes care of her.

Something like that, you can make changes to the plot of course. And thank you.

One time too many

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader (Request)

Part 2!

Masterlist

Word count: 2.3k

It’s been three months since she messed up, since she made the biggest mistake ever, since she couldn’t control herself. Tara drunkenly glared at the bottle of vodka in her hand before taking a swing out of it. She already ruined everything, giving up on alcohol now wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“Tara, I think you had enough,” Mindy tried to take her bottle away, but she just pulled it closer, wrapping it in her hands and clutching on to it. What else did she have left? When she lost one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with?

The smoke and smells all around her irritated her lungs, but she wanted to be normal, to be a healthy, not traumatized student that could maintain her relationships instead of ruining them. “I’m fine,” she slurred, taking another big swing and emptying the bottle. She looked at it, disappointed that there was none left.

Mindy groaned, stopping her before she could get up to get more alcohol. “Seriously, you drank the entire bottle alone. Would you stop if I got Y/N to come and get you?” she asked, as if that was possible.

You wouldn’t come. You and Tara haven’t spoken since you broke up, you made it clear the decision was final and Tara didn’t want to cause you even more pain. She already hurt you, and she could neither forgive herself for that, nor did she deserve forgiveness.

“Sure, as if that’ll happen,” so, knowing you wouldn’t come she accepted Mindy’s deal. “I’ll go and try to find some tequila now.”

Mindy sighed and told Chad to go and keep an eye on her while she calls you. She was wasting her time, and your time as well.

~X~

You groaned, burying your face in your hands and leaning back on the chair. Notes and books and presentations open on your laptop were going to be the death of you tonight. It wasn’t usually like that, you usually did well, found these subjects easy, but tonight your brain just refused to cooperate. You dragged your palms down and looked outside the window, you knew the reason.

You broke up with Tara exactly three months ago and you were in a turmoil over it. How was she doing? Was she still drinking? Did she think about you as often as you thought about her? You hoped she didn’t. She deserved to be happy, to find someone who would love her and accept all of her. You missed her, so much it hurt. You still loved her, so much more than you expected you’d love anyone in your life, yet that love wasn’t enough to keep the seven months long relationship going.

Your phone suddenly began buzzing and you figured you weren’t going to get any studying done anyway so you got up and went to your bed where you left your phone earlier. You noticed it was Mindy and raised an eyebrow. But more than confusion you felt fear, because of what happened to Tara two times already. You would never forgive yourself if Tara was hurt, you would always wonder if there was anything you could have done to prevent it. Even if logically there really wasn’t anything you could do.

“Yes?” you asked, keeping the fear and worry at bay for now.

“Hey, Y/N, sorry if I’m interrupting, but would you mind picking Tara up. She might actually get an alcohol poisoning if she keeps drinking like this,” she said, and you inhaled sharply. “I know you two broke up, but I don’t think anyone but you can get her out of here without making a scene.”

“Text me where she is,” you said, already tossing a jacket over your shoulder and grabbing your keys.

Mindy paused, as if she thought you wouldn’t agree, or that she’d need to try harder to convince you. “Thanks, Y/N,” she eventually said and hung up, and sure enough, she sent the location to you mere moments later.

When you broke up with Tara, you promised yourself that if she ever reached out to you for help, or if her friends or Sam did that for her, you’d be there, no matter what. You still loved her, you didn’t want her to get hurt, or to feel like she couldn’t turn to you. Maybe you should have told her that yourself, three months ago, but you feared that would make the breakup hurt even more.

You drove to the location Mindy sent to you and parked in front of some frat house or something. You took a deep breath and stepped outside of your car, ready for the smell of alcohol and smoke and whatnot. Tara had asthma, how she handled being in places like these was beyond you. You saw Mindy standing outside and waving toward you to get your attention. At least you wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time inside.

“Hey,” you greeted her, and she smiled at you gratefully, she was a bit tipsy as well, but you were much more worried about Tara.

“Thanks, I think tonight might have something to do with your breakup. She’s been talking about you ever since she got tipsy,” she told you as she led you inside, through the crowds of students, dimly lit party filled with alcohol and even some drugs from the smell of it. You knew Tara wouldn’t do drugs though, she got drunk, she didn’t get high. Finally, you saw her, slightly slumped against the table as Chad tried to get her to stop. She truly wasn’t listening to anyone. Ever.

“Tara,” you spoke up and she straightened her back, her drunk eyes clearing up a bit as she saw you.

“Y/N?” she breathed out, as if she couldn’t believe she was seeing you.

“Come on, let’s leave,” you offered her your hand and smiled a bit as she took it immediately, and though she wasn’t steady on her feet she got up and stared at you. The feeling of her hand in yours made you feel like the missing pieces of your puzzle were falling into place.

You wanted to hug her, and you saw that was exactly what she wanted, but that might further complicate things, so, you just kept holding her hand and walking to the front doors with her right behind you. She didn’t complain one bit and you nodded at the twins. The fresh air felt so good now that you were out of that suffocating party, and you gently pulled Tara along to your car, opening the back seat for her and stepping aside for her to get in.

She smiled a bit at you, that same slightly shy smile she had on her face the first time you opened the car doors for her, even before you started dating, while you were in the friendship stage. You smiled back, going around the car and getting in, but before you left you quickly pulled your phone out and sent Sam a quick message.

You: I picked up Tara from a party, I’ll let her sleep at my place if that’s okay with you?

Sam replied almost immediately and once again you were reminded of how things used to be, only this time you were reminded of the worst part of the relationship.

Sam: Of course, thanks, Y/N

And she responded the way she used to, a bit out of habit. You didn’t keep in touch with Mindy or Chad, but you and Sam occasionally talked. She would catch you up on what was going on with the group, and more importantly on how Tara was doing, and you’d tell her about your life. Tara knew about it, Sam would tell her and so both of you understood that, at least on some level, you were both still okay.

“I’m sorry,” Tara slurred, leaning against the car window. “I reek of alcohol,” she did, she reeked of alcohol and smoke, and you did not like either of the smells, but you still just nodded and drove off to your apartment.

When you came home you gave Tara some of your clothes and she changed in your bedroom while you went back to your notes. She was too drunk to put up a fight and argue that she should sleep on the couch, and instead just fell asleep on your bed.

You tried to study, you really did, but Tara kept mumbling apologies and your name in her sleep, and you eventually just gave up and got up. Only then did you notice she didn’t even lie down properly, her feet hung off the bed and she was lying on it diagonally, too drunk to even handle that. So, with a heavy sigh you went and lifted her up so you could move her and make her feel as comfortable as possible. You tucked her in and left the medicine next to the bed for her and you just left her to sleep.

You dropped down on the couch, and sighed, all the emotions within you bubbling to the surface. Tara and you got along, you only fought about one thing. Tara’s drinking. Other than that, it was an amazing relationship and you were, very much, in love.

But you couldn’t handle her drinking. You promised yourself that you could deal with most things, as long as the partner of your choice wasn’t abusive or a cheater. That you could talk most things out, that you had your own faults, and that everyone did, so some tolerance was necessary. But you couldn’t tolerate alcohol.

You grew up with alcoholic parents, and they got violent when drunk, and living with them for years, seeing their fights, seeing all of that made you hate alcohol more than anything. Tara wasn’t violent, far from it, she just got drunk, fell asleep and occasionally had to throw up. She didn’t have outbursts, or tried to pick fights. She had her own issues and drowned them in alcohol.

But your parents weren’t violent at the start either.

You repeatedly had that conversation with Tara, and no matter how often she promised it would be the last time, she still got drunk again. Until you just went and broke up with her. You tolerated it longer than you ever expected you would.

You couldn’t fall asleep that night.

~X~

She woke up in a familiar environment. How many times did she wake up in your room? Too many to count, now that she thought about it. Some were perfect, after a night of hanging out, watching movies and making love. Some, as usual as the perfect ones, were filled with regret, because she got drunk again.

Tara knew what it felt like to have an alcoholic parent, though it was only her mother in her case, and yet here she was. Going down the same path. After Bailey tried to kill her, Sam and their friends she went to therapy, and soon after that she met you. She was suspicious at first but she felt comfortable around you, she felt free with you, and a few months later you got together.

And then the therapy just stopped working. And though she knew everything, a stressful week was all it took for her to relapse into alcohol again. One drink after another, she got drunk and two months into your relationship she hurt you for the very first time. She still remembered the look in your eyes, the horror that no movie could cause. And she promised she wouldn’t do it again. Only to do it again, and again, and again, until you had enough.

And now, three months after your breakup, she was back here, after another drunk night. She hated herself for that. For every time she got drunk.

How many times did you try to help her? To support her through everything, to make it so that she didn’t need to drown her issues in alcohol, and she still did it. You were there for her, no matter what she needed. She had it all, she was happy, truly happy in a relationship for the first time in her life, and she threw it away.

It meant everything to her, and she threw it away as if it meant nothing.

She drank her medicine and went to the bathroom, only now noticing your clothes. She was so used to them while you were in a relationship. She loved wearing them, she felt warm in them, she felt safe. And then, when she came out and went to the living room she saw you, sitting on the couch with a mug of coffee in front of you. You probably didn’t sleep last night.

“Good morning,” you still smiled at her, that same loving smile she used to wake up to, only reminding her of what she lost.

“Good morning,” she replied, tears filling up her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d come and get me, I’m sorry you had to see that even now that we’re no longer together,” she said, she meant it, she truly did. “Why did you-“ her choked up slightly. “you didn’t have to,” she lowered her head and let the tears fall as you got up, went around the table and stopped in front of her, hugging her tightly and letting her cry. She didn’t deserve this, you being gentle and still there for her even after everything.

“I loved you, I still do, Tara,” you whispered, and thought you felt like that, though she loved you back, there were words neither of you spoke.

‘But you broke my trust one time too many.’

A/N: I did not think this would turn into angst! I swear! I did change a thing or two from the request, but I think it still fits. Part 2!

[bueckerrss]

Tainted love – s. golbach

pairing:sam x fem! reader

warnings: none?

lower case intended maybe bad grammar mb 😔

not proofread | unedited!

“thank you have a nice day!” i said smiling at the elderly woman handing her the paper bag with her breakfast in it.

“next!” i said as i saw a teenage girl walk up to the register “hello what can i get for you today?” i asked politely “hi can i get a croissant with a latte?” said the timid girl with a smile “sure thing!”

“that’ll be $6.30” i smiled at the girl accepting the cash she was handing me “that’s a cool tattoo! when did you get it?” she said looking at my wrist.

a sad smile forming on my lips thinking about the back story of it “i got it on my eighteenth birthday my at the time boyfriend thought it would be a good idea so we got matching tattoos, mine as you can see has the moon shaded in and his had or if he still has it has the sun shaded in” i explained fully showing her my tattoo.

“could i maybe hear the story on how it all happened?” she asked softly afraid to push any buttons.

seeing as the cafe was nearly empty and no one was coming in anytime soon so i decided to tell her “well it was 2014 on my birthday, my at the time boyfriend thought it would be a good idea for us to get tattoos together since he was already eighteen we were both ‘legally’ allowed to get tattoos. we looked at the book thingy and we picked the moon and sun but the shaded one would match our personalities, he got the sun shaded since he like reminded me of a golden retriever in a way” i explained with a smile.

“a golden retriever? how’s that?” she asked more into what i had to say “he had blonde hair blue eyes and just a genuine sweetheart like if you met him you’d instantly know he was a good person you know?” “yup i know what you mean what’s his name?”

“his name is sam” i said with a smile going into the story.

• time skip •

the door bell chimes signaling someone had just walked in. i took my place behind the counter and looked up at who came in.

“welcome to cafe 5 what can i do for you?” i greeted the man in front of me “uh yea could i get a water?” he muttered “that’ll be two dollars and fifty cents!” i said smiling at the man in front of me. something about him seemed familiar but i could not seem to know what it was since he had dark clothing, his hood covered his face and all i could see were his tattoos from his rolled-up sleeves.

after giving him his water he left without another word but that was the least of my worries.

-

“yea she is there she changed a bit but not much, her smile and make up style is the same, just the clothing style and hair are what changed the most”

“okay, i think i should go talk to her then it's been 8 years since that day.”

as the man walked in his face hidden from the view of the girl she could not help but wonder why he looked so familiar, that was until he looked up and met her eyes, that is when it hit her.

he smiled at her she smiled back leaving her place behind the counter running to him and indulging him into a hug.

“missed me princess?” he asked softly “more than you can imagine” she said as she pulled away from the hug looking at him.

“why did you leave all those years ago? why didn’t you tell me?” she asked scanning his face for answers.

“i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but here meet me at this place and i’ll explain everything!” he said handing her a piece of paper with an address on it. as she looked down to the paper she saw it, he still had the tattoo.

and that’s what kept them connected.

the symbol of their love tainted or in other words it was a tainted love

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 5 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: language probably, tense situations with dangerous vampires, angst ig?

wc: 4.6k

Midmorning finds you and Namjoon seated on the stone floor around the low center table of your main room. The table is littered with papers and open books, pens and half-full coffee cups. Your previous argument forgotten, you’ve spent the morning productively and companionably. 

On the paper closest to you, you’ve made a list of all the threads of the curse that you’re confident are present, the same ones you’d discussed with Prince Taehyung in this very room yesterday. On Namjoon’s side of the table is a list of possible threads - things you’re unsure about, things you’re considering, things that are possible but thus far unproven.

On the paper beside yours, you’ve begun listing options to counter each of these threads. There’s always more than one way. The key to a countercurse is to first determine each thread that must be countered, and then find the exact correct counter for each one. 

It isn’t even a matter of countering each individual strand - there are elements of finding the least-common-denominator, in a way: you need the best thing that will counter as many as possible at once. 

One thread might be best countered by a certain incantation, but if a different one will counter three threads, then it’s the better choice. 

Once you know what incantations and magical elements you need to include in the counter, you can begin to decide how best to weave them together and cast them effectively into a countercurse. 

“We counter the infliction of pain with healing,” you mutter, tapping your pen against the paper. You look at Namjoon, thinking hard. “Do you think we could tap into the prince’s healing abilities for that?”

Namjoon’s eyes widen and he scrambles for his own pen, starting to write quickly before he can lose the train of thought. “Yes,” he answers you as he writes. “Yes, that’s brilliant. Instead of weaving in our own healing spell, we can pull his ability to the surface - it’s much cleaner that way.”

“I was also thinking about this…” you muse, glancing up to see that Namjoon is following. “I know this might sound silly, but… I was thinking about the creation myth? The Hunter and the Highest, do you know it?”

He looks confused, but nods. “Who doesn’t?”

“The myth serves as an explanatory tale,” you say, accidentally slipping into professor-mode, “regarding how the Infracti changed from just monster.”

“They were traded humanity,” Namjoon says, trying to remember the story.

“Traded, gifted - yeah. The magic-wielders gave them humanity. So, I’m wondering… if that’s what we’re meant to do now, with the countercurse. Return his humanity.”

Namjoon thinks on this. “That’ll be a hell of a thread for us to create,” he muses, and you have to agree.

You’re interrupted by a knock on the door, and Dansoo approaches, looking down at where you and Namjoon are seated on the floor. You look up at him expectantly, your hand frozen mid-air, still clutching your pen.

“Her Majesty the Queen has requested your company,” the Infracti says to you, tone cold. He’s probably still pissed that you escaped the other night. 

You look down at yourself - you’re in sweatpants and a t-shirt, feet in fuzzy socks. 

“Can I, uh… get changed first?” you ask, gulping.

The Infracti man looks over you, lip curling just a touch. “I would recommend that, yes,” he says flatly. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “Please wait for me outside. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

“Do be quick,” he says, casting you a sharp side-eye as he turns to return to the corridor. 

Namjoon looks up at you. “Do you think she wants both of us?”

You let out a wild laugh, anxiety already starting to worm its way through your system. “I don’t care if she doesn’t,” you say. “Please come with me. She scares me.”

Namjoon smiles at this. “I’d be honored,” he jokes, and heads to his room to - you assume - get more presentable as well.

You hurry to change, choosing something that you hope toes the correct side of the fancy-or-professional line. Once you’re done, you meet Namjoon back in the main room. 

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod. He lets you lead the way into the hall, and Dansoo leads you both deep into the palace into a wing you haven’t seen before. 

You notice something you haven’t seen before in your time in Infracticus - as you get further and further down this particular corridor… it gets brighter, sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows on the doors at the end of the hall. 

“Are we going outside?” you ask, peering over the Infracti’s shoulder, trying to peek through the more opaque pieces of glass. 

You’ve read about the physical characteristics of Infracticus, written papers about them, given lectures about them. But nothing prepares you for the momentarily blinding brightness of unfiltered sunshine, or the sudden melody of birdsong as you step out of the palace into Infracticus proper. 

Your trip to the ocean’s edge last night doesn’t count; it was too dark to see a thing. Now, in bright sunlight, you’re breathless, taking in the beauty around you.

You must have come out the opposite side of the palace, because the ocean isn’t visible, nor does it even smell particularly salty here. Instead, a mountain looms to your left, the summit cut off from view by sandstone palace walls. Trees line a distant stream that runs nearly black, like ink. And the sky - the sky ranges from periwinkle to deep violet. 

A light laugh breaks you from your reverie and you feel your face heat in embarrassment. The stone pathway you stand on ends before you with a roofed gazebo that seems to jut out over the valley below. Seated at the table, the Queen has been watching you stand in frozen wonder, staring in awe at the sky she has known for over a thousand years. 

“God,” Namjoon mutters beside you, and you know he’s feeling the same thing you are.

It’s beautiful, you mean to say. Instead, you utter, “It’s purple.”

“I remember my first time going above,” she tells you, as you remember your feet and make your way closer. You can’t keep your eyes off the sky for more than a second. You feel like you’re inside a painting. “I felt the same way about the blue.”

“I read so much about it,” you tell her. “But nothing could describe this.”

“It pleases me that you find beauty in Infracticus,” she says. 

“It’d be impossible not to find beauty here,” you breathe, turning further still to try and see more. “Could I go out there? With the prince, maybe? Do you think he’d take me, if I asked?”

The Queen purses her lips and says, “I imagine after you break the curse for him, the prince would do nearly anything you asked of him.”

This reminder of your purpose here sobers you. You find yourself forgetting, yet again, that you aren’t here just to experience Infracticus.  

“Please join me, both of you,” the Queen says, opening a hand towards the empty chair across from her. There are a variety of pastries and fruits on the table, and you can tell that a small section of them aren’t bloodfood, but human food. There’s also a set of some sort of chess-like board game, the pieces intricately carved like tiny works of careful art. “My son said you were eager to see more of Infracticus. I thought it might help ease your restlessness to come outside. These are my private quarters, so no one will stumble upon us here.”

Prince Taehyung had said he wouldn’t tell on you; he must have mentioned that you were wanting to look around. Hopefully he left out that you’d tried, and been caught.

“Have you played before?” she asks, watching as you delicately take the seat she’d offered and pick up a piece to examine it. 

Namjoon shakes his head, peering closer. “It’s not chess?” he asks, eyeing the different pieces for differences.

“I’ve played, but only with humans,” you tell her, turning the piece over in your hands. “It’s similar to chess, but the pieces and their movements are different.”

“Would you join me for a game?” she asks lightly. 

You look at her over the top of the piece in your hand. If you’re right, and you aren’t completely sure, the piece is called the Seer. Behind it, the Queen watches you. Her eyes are inhuman, all black, and you find them hard to read. Her mouth quirks like she’s considering a smile, but you can’t discern if there is any true warmth behind it. 

She’s beautiful. She’s frightening. 

“Yes, of course,” you answer. “But you may need to help remind me of the rules.”

She gives a slightly bigger smile and begins to set the board up, and you replace the Seer where you think it goes. She gives you a pleased nod.

“I know it’s only been a day, but I wanted to inquire about your progress,” she tells you as she places the last piece, the single Bloodletter, on its spot. 

She moves her first piece and sits back, waiting for your answer to both her question and her movement. 

“We’ve identified many strands of the original curse,” you tell her, turning your shoulders to indicate inclusion of Namjoon, who sits in the chair beside you, watching the game board intently. It wouldn’t surprise you if he knew the rules by heart at the end of one game. “But certainly not all of them.”

You move a Mason piece, and then add, “There’s more we need to investigate. I need to spend more time with the prince, and perhaps run a few rituals to suss out what we can’t find through questioning.” 

The Queen accepts this, nodding, and the game continues, pieces beginning to fill the middle space of the board. She asks a few follow-up questions about the threads you’ve determined, about what might help you discover the rest.

You don’t want to go over the prince’s head to his mother, even though you firmly believe that seeing him while the curse is active will be paramount to your work. You’d rather change his mind yourself, rather than risk making him upset with you. 

You eye the board as you answer, weighing your options. You could move a Mortal, which would be a very safe movement and wouldn’t earn you much. You could let your Mason take a hit, which would open a path for your Seer. Or, you could take on the Bloodletter with your Priestess - which would give you a clear and unblockable shot at taking the Queen’s Thief. 

Do you dare actually take one of her pieces, before she’s taken one of yours? It wouldn’t win you the game, but it would certainly make this an actual competition. 

“I see the move you see,” she says evenly, her voice cool and still. “If I wanted to win without a challenge, I’d simply play against my staff.”

You smile at this, caught. “As you wish,” you tell her, and the Priestess takes the Bloodletter, the piece being placed to the side of the board, belonging to both and neither of you. On your next turn, as you’d arranged, you reach to take her Thief. 

The piece burns your fingers and nearly slips from your grasp as you jolt with surprise and pain; you sit forward in your seat and use both hands to catch the piece before it can hit the board and scatter the others. 

Cradled between your hands, the Thief glows - brighter and brighter, the color starting out orange and shifting quickly to yellow and then blue. It no longer burns where it touches you, but you set it down gently anyway, your hands starting to shake. 

The fingers that were burnt seem to pulse, the pain stabbing and unrelenting. You hold up the hand that stings, eyeing your injured fingertips, looking for evidence of the burn. There is none, but the smarting continues, keeping time with your quickened heartbeat. The blue light fades from the Thief as it lays still and unassuming, sideways on the tabletop. 

You do not reach for it again.

Behind you, Namjoon whispers your name. You don’t turn, instead locking your eyes on the Queen, whose face stays as impassive and unreadable as ever. 

“I would really like,” you say, your voice low and trembling, an animal caught in a trap for the second time in as many days, “to know what just happened to me.”

The Queen lazily lifts her hand and an Infracti woman appears at her side. “Fetch my son, would you?” she says, and then reaches to move one of her Mortals as if nothing had happened. 

When you don’t take your turn, she looks at you with those fathomless black eyes. “Does it still hurt?” she asks innocently. 

It does, but less than at first. Mostly, you’re suddenly terrified, hands still shaking so badly you don’t think you could grasp another game piece without dropping it. You’re reminded that you are alone here - that you cannot and should not completely trust a single Infracti, that every single one of them sees you as dinner to be toyed with before eating.

You should have known the game was more than a game. You should have known a request for your company was anything but.

“That was a magical reaction,” you say bluntly, feeling something harden behind your ribcage, armor sliding into place and latches snapping shut. “I’m very curious as to the specifics.”

Beside you, Namjoon has shifted into your line of sight, in your periphery. You can’t afford to turn and meet his eyes right now. You can’t afford to look frightened. 

The Queen is spared from answering you as Prince Taehyung strides up the walkway, brow furrowed. 

He takes in the scene in seconds - Namjoon’s hand hovering near you, alarmed like a mother hen; the Queen’s expression gone defensively haughty; and you - clutching your burned fingers, trying to fight against the frightened tears that threaten to give away your terror. 

He lets out an exasperated growl. “Mother,” he scolds, and then drops to kneel beside your seat. “May I heal that?” he asks you, expression open and apologetic. Your stupid heart dares to flutter - weakly, but there. The little ways he cares for you are enough to make you forget that he’s royalty - plus, inhuman.

It’s easier to forget when he’s made his eyes look human again today, as he had yesterday and the day before.

You nod mutely, letting him take your hand in his. He passes his thumb over the pad of each burned fingertip, and you feel the sting of the burn slip away, as you had imagined the whole thing.

“Thank you,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on him. His presence tethers you, is the only thing that allows you to feel safe. You want to hide behind him, make him stand between you and every scary thing here.

He stands again, but keeps your hand lightly in his own. He faces his mother, frowning again. “Well?” he demands. “Did you get the answer you wanted?”

The Queen sets her jaw in response.

Prince Taehyung scoffs and continues. “Do remember, Mother, that our guest could decide she doesn’t want to be here anymore. She could go right back to the human world and never look back. I certainly don’t want that - do you?”

You know he means for the sake of breaking the curse, but you can’t help but feel a rush of… something - gratitude? pleasure? - at his words.

“Come,” he says to you, giving your hand a light tug. “Mother’s played enough games for the day.”

You follow immediately, hearing the heavy steps behind you to indicate that Namjoon isn’t far behind. As Prince Taehyung nears the doors that lead back inside the palace, the Queen calls after him.

“It turned blue, Taehyung,” the Queen’s voice calls. “Almost instantly.”

Prince Taehyung doesn’t indicate that he’s heard, doesn’t even turn his head. He simply leads you inside without looking back.

In the safety of the palace, you feel yourself calming, no longer feeling like the Queen is simply playing with her food - with you. 

Prince Taehyung doesn’t speak to you until he’s led you both in your own main room, latching the door shut behind Namjoon, who takes up the rear.

He sighs apologetically, his head hanging a little. “I cannot seem to keep you out of trouble,” he laments.

“Was I supposed to refuse her request?” you say hotly, feeling suddenly defensive.

“Of course not,” he soothes. “I’m sorry my mother tried to scare you half to death. Is the pain gone? Are you better?”

“I feel better,” you tell him. “But… what did she do? What does that mean, it turned blue?”

He shakes his head, frustrated. “That’s an indicator of your magical quotient,” he explains. He’s frowning deeply, and your mind is whirring fast trying to fit pieces of information together. “She was… measuring your ability. Blue is… well, it’s quite high.”

Beside you, Namjoon makes a strangled noise, like he’s choked on his own breath.

He’s done the math faster than you.

“My magical quotient?” you repeat. “But I’m human. My magical quotient is zero, unless I’m casting - and that’s borrowed magic.”

“A human,” Namjoon murmurs to you, shifting protectively closer, “would have held nothing but a wooden game piece. There would have been no glow at all.”

Your eyes dart around the room for answers that aren’t there. Your head spins. You can’t even begin to process this - that you may be inherently magical - because still pressing is the question:

“Why did she want to know that?” you ask, your voice a bit like a gasp. Both men in the room are looking at you carefully. You’re a wild animal in a trap again. Again. 

You want to go home, you want it to stop. You want to feel safe, and you haven’t since the Infracti two days ago had cornered you at the top of the stairs. 

“I don’t know,” the prince admits, twisting his mouth to the side. “But I assure you, I know my mother well. Her intentions would not be to hurt you, or to frighten you. Even though it seems she did both.”

You shake your head, overwhelmed. “My parents were human,” you whisper. “What does this mean? Am I a -?”

You can’t make yourself say witch. This is too much. It’s too much.

Prince Taehyung reaches out a hand like he wants to comfort you, but thinks better of it and lets it rest at his own side again. “It happens that way sometimes,” he says gently. “You really didn’t know?”

You turn and look at Namjoon a little wildly. 

“Don’t look at me,” he laughs, holding up his hands. “I just met you.”

“Dr. Kim?” you press. “He never -?”

“If he had suspicions, he never told me,” Namjoon tells you seriously. “Though it does explain your… aptitude.” 

Something inside you feels like it’s sinking. “I thought I was just… well-studied,” you admit to no one. You feel weirdly like you’re grieving - like you’ve lost something instead of gained it.

You feel wilder still, less calm by the second. You need to get away from them both - their gazes too heavy. 

The prince shifts his weight uneasily. “I have to leave you now,” he says, and he sounds regretful. “But I’ll come check on you - rather, on your progress - after the court families leave this evening.”

He waits; you don’t reply. You’re reeling too fast - you can’t fake normalcy, not right now.

“That’s fine,” Namjoon says, looking sideways at you cautiously, like he’s waiting for you to explode. “We’ll try to get some work done this afternoon.”

Prince Taehyung nods in thanks and heads for the door. Before pulling it shut, he pauses, and somehow his eyes meet yours. The look he gives you borders on pitying, but stops shy of it. Instead, you read something understanding and sorrowful, like he’d rather stay. You wish he would.

“I’ll check on you later,” he repeats softly, just for you. 

You manage to nod. The door closes.

Namjoon looks from the door to you and then back again, like he’s starting to put pieces together of a puzzle you didn’t know you were part of.

“I think I need to be by myself for a little bit,” you manage to say, your voice flat and hollow even to your own ears. You close yourself in your own bedroom, change robotically into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, climb onto your bed and roll to face the wall.

You’re feeling so much - too much, all contradictory and all overpowering and none of it mixing well together. You’re been foolish here, and you’re embarrassed. You feel unsafe. You feel afraid. You feel angry. You feel doubtful about the curse. You feel doubtful about your partnership with Namjoon. You still, despite everything that’s happened, feel eagerness to experience more of this place. You feel excitement at spending more time with Prince Taehyung, which is the stupidest part of all of this. You feel idiotic that you hadn’t known you have your own magic for almost thirty years. You feel bereft that what you’d thought was grit and hard work was actually unearned, inherent ability. You feel grief at losing your humanity.

It’s too much, and you’re a simple creature. It all furrows into one thought, and you repeat it to yourself over and over as your blue-grey walls blur before you: I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home.

You repeat it until, eyes puffy and nose stuffy, you drop helplessly into sleep.

—

When Taehyung enters the dining room, where his parents are already seated, it is with the energy of a stormcloud descending on a picnic. His father seems downright jolly, bristling with good cheer as Taehyung stalks his way towards them, scowling.

“Whatever are you so worked up about?” The Queen asks, peering carefully at him, as if she herself hadn’t just tried to scare away his best chance of a cure.

“The stunt you pulled this afternoon,” Taehyung says honestly, leaning his long legs against the sturdy wooden table and eyeing them both, arms crossed over his chest. He addresses his father, asking, “Did she tell you? That she tried to send the curse-breaker running? What would the plan be, if she left? I’d stay like this forever?”

They both ignore most of this outburst, exchanging a mildly amused look. Taehyung’s irritation digs its teeth in a little harder, pushes him closer to snapping.

“Well?” he demands.

“Your mother told me she tested the girl’s magical quotient,” the King admits, still smiling slyly at his wife. “Did she tell you? It glowed blue?”

“Who cares?” Taehyung bites out. “Beyond that she can use her innate magical abilities to cure me, which is all I care about.”

“That’s just the problem,” the Queen says with a sigh. “You’re failing to see the bigger picture, as usual, my dear.”

Taehyung grits his teeth. Six hundred years of their bullshit have been too many. “Enlighten me then,” he growls. 

The King raises an eyebrow, looks at him appraisingly. “Do you think I forgot about our little deal?”

Our little deal. As if it was just a laugh, to him. 

Taehyung finds himself scowling again. “Of course not. But I did think we could afford to shift our focus just a bit until the curse is broken.”

Their little deal, to Taehyung, was anything but little. And his side of the bargain, his price to pay, was to start meeting suitors, and to give them a fair shot. 

And he had - suitor after suitor, some human but most Infracti, some common but most from court, some clever or funny but most just… lacking. 

“You promised to give her a chance,” the King had complained when Taehyung had refused to meet one particular Infracti for a second date. 

“I am,” Taehyung had groused, aggravated but trapped. “Pick a better selection, that’s all I can tell you.”

“You need to think more like a prince and less like a -” 

Well, Taehyung doesn’t need to remember the rest of that sentence. It wasn’t very kingly. 

“What exactly does that mean?” Taehyung had challenged. It was a dangerous game, pushing back against his father. If their agreement crumbled, there was an awful lot at stake. He’s got to remember that this game affects more than himself and his pride.

“Think more about what she can do for the bloodline and less about if she gives you butterflies,” the King had snapped, eyes narrowed. Taehyung had slammed the door on his way out that day. 

“I believe we were shifting focus,” the Queen says, something softer in her tone, finally. “But I saw you two together, and wondered…”

Taehyung bristles, feeling weirdly protective of the little witch (apparently) who’d been brought here to fix him. “You saw us together and wondered what else you could get from her?”

The King laughs. “What are you angry for? We were curious about her - couldn’t you feel her magic?”

Taehyung grimaces. At first, he couldn’t. For your entire first meeting, he hadn’t felt a thing. 

He’d felt it, finally, when he’d found you in danger. You hadn’t thought to use it, but your magic had been screaming, so loudly that Taehyung had heard it before he could hear your heart beating. In your distress, your magical signature had risen to the surface, singing just under your skin, summoned by and answering the magic that was inherent in him, in all Infracti. They knew each other, these two magics, and they called like-to-like.

He’d known it was strong. He hadn’t known what to do with it, so he’d ignored it, had put the information away for another time.

It hadn’t occurred to him that others - his parents especially - might notice, might have their own questions they wanted answers to.

“I felt it,” he admits, voice low and defensive. 

“She has the potential to be quite powerful, if she learned. Imagine adding that kind of raw ability to our bloodline,” the King says, serious for the first time. 

Taehyung doesn’t answer. He’s busy remembering his deal with his father, his agreement to marry - for the sake of the bloodline. 

He’s thinking about all the suitors he hadn’t cared about at all. 

He’s thinking of waking up morning after morning exhausted, his muscles weak from hours of throwing his poor, battered body against the door, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep, his throat raw from growling like the animal he is, deep down. 

He’s thinking about the look of relief you’d sent him when you spotted him behind your attacker, and again when he’d appeared at the veranda this afternoon. Like you trust him, like you knew even if everyone else was a danger, he wasn’t. Like you believed in him, and no one else, to be more than a monster. Lately, he’s felt like the monster is winning, and being seen as more feels… as necessary as oxygen. 

“Of course we want her to end the curse above all else,” the Queen says gently, watching her son’s eyes go unfocused as he loses himself in his thoughts. “But when that’s done… maybe her time in Infracticus doesn’t need to be. Consider it.”

“I’m considering,” Taehyung concedes, moving to take his seat. The King beams, but Taehyung talks over him. “But you two need to watch your step with her. If you scare her away, she won’t end the curse - and then no one will marry me.”

<;- Prev || Next ->

thank you for reading!!! <3

[bongo-clash]

Peacock Au Part 3

(Part One & Two here!!!)

Continuation of the Eldritch Danny DPxDC fic!!!! This is Kind Of the final chapter but Bones has also been making my brain go So Wild with other ideas so!!! Big chance they'll be more parts at some point (probably after Ectober week if I do!!)

Either Way Here It Is

(Fic under cut!!) (+ Part 4 Here)

-

Constantine makes the executive decision not to explain anything to Batman until the other League members are gathered in the watchtower meeting room. Maybe not his best choice, evidenced for the most part by the seething glare the vigilante is shooting him from his place at the head of the table, but still, John really doesn’t want to have to talk about this any more than he has to. It’s already going to be a pain in his side as is. 

It doesn’t take long for the rest to appear through the zeta tubes. Superman and Wonder Woman predictably arriving first of the lot, followed by Zatanna, the Flash, and then Green Lantern. Once they’re all settled and he figures this is all the people that’ll be showing up today, he deigns to begin speaking. He might’ve appreciated a bit of a higher attendance rate, but he’ll take it. 

“Alright, you lot,” He starts, just as the Green Lantern opens his mouth, likely to ask what this whole meeting is for. “I believe we’ve got a little bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Situation how, Constantine.” Batman asks, eyes narrowed behind the cowl, the furthest thing from a question. 

Constantine sighs deeply, fingers fidgeting in his coat pocket for a cigarette even if he knows he can’t smoke in the watchtower (maybe he could just hold one…). In lieu of looking the man in the face, however, he addresses everyone else in the room. “Well, see, the Bat here had a Pit forming in his territory, and he decided it’d be a bloody brilliant idea to call me for help instead of literally anyone else. The good news is the Pit’s gone. The bad news is I’m pretty sure the thing that got rid of it is worse.”

A few of them make faces, since if Constantine’s involved then this is definitely a magic problem, and none of them are fans of magic problems- Superman looks like he’s trying not to twitch. “Can you describe it?” 

“Not properly, no. Big, bright, bit of a space theme going on? Had these horrible things on them, kept changing between eyes and mouths and hands- used those to reach out and get rid of the Lazarus Pit, ‘far as I could see. They knew I was doing it for the Big Bat even though I never said a word about it, and from what I understand, they wanted a favour for sorting it out. I don’t know what they want it for.”

Batman’s face is unreadable, but there’s a scrutiny there that permeates the air around him. “So you discovered the existence of a powerful, unknown entity, and not only did you deign to summon it into our world, but you then proceeded to make a deal with it as well, completely unaware of the potential consequences.”

“In my defence,” Constantine retorts. “This is entirely your fault for getting me involved. I’ve no clue why you thought coming to me was a solid plan in the first place.”

There’s a storm brewing beneath that bat mask, but Wonder Woman intercepts before it can descend into a full-blown argument. “Now is no time to be assigning blame, we need a plan. Do you know of any way we can attain more information on this being, Constantine?”

“Not the foggiest,” He replies simply. “The only thing the book said was that it could help with the Pits. When I asked the damn thing what it was, it just gave me a riddle and, quite frankly, I wasn’t going to push it. So unless Zatanna has anything, I’ve got nothing.”

The whole table turns to look at Zatanna. She has a contemplative look on her face, pausing for the moment presumably to run through the information in her head. “Well, there’s a lot of entities around whose existences centre on keeping the balance between realms or concepts, but this is the first I’ve heard about anything like this. The closest thing I could think of is maybe Pariah Dark, since he’s known to have a connection to the Lazarus Pits, but he’s been out of commission for centuries now, and he’s never been depicted at all the way you described…”

“…And I know for a fact that his summoning ritual requires a blood sacrifice, and this thing didn’t want blood.” Constantine finishes. 

Zatanna makes a sour face, seeming to understand his implications, and the remaining non-magic members of the JL look appropriately disturbed. He thinks the worst thing about it for them is probably that there’s no real way to plan this out. They’ve got no power list, no strengths, no weaknesses, they don’t even really know what the entity is beyond its relation to the Lazarus Pits and even that’s an area of questionability, because the Pits are damn confusing on their own. If this thing shows up on them now, they’re screwed.

And just as the thought crosses his mind, there’s a tangible shift in the watchtower atmosphere, like the air’s thinning and closing in on itself at the same time. He looks at Zatanna with matching confusion, praying to gods he’s never met and that don’t like him that he hasn’t just managed to jinx himself in the worst way possible. 

“Do you feel that?” He says, and it doesn’t look like it’s only the other magic user in the room that does, because a fair few of the remaining League are pulling expressions Constantine really doesn’t like. Please, please say he hasn’t jinxed himself. 

There’s a sound like whale song and whistling as something comes up through the floor, and there’s not enough languages on Earth or beyond to encapsulate how many swears John wants to say right now. 

But it’s not the entity. 

Or at least, it doesn’t look like the entity, even if it certainly feels like it. It kind of looks like a teenager, of all the awful things. They have flare-white hair, bright, sheepish green eyes, and they’re wearing what Constantine thinks is a hazmat suit but doesn’t know enough about hazardous material protection to say for certain. No alarms going off, no doors opening or shutting, no signals at all; just a weird breeze, and the few seconds of warning that gives before the being appeared. That’s worrying. The way the League doesn’t even say anything is more so. 

“Hi,” They start, after what feels like an eternity of silence, and oh boy, they really do sound about twelve. Constantine doesn’t know how to deal with children, let alone ones that can just phase into the most secure superhero base in Earth’s orbit. This is awful. “Okay, so, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, so I just wanted to, y’know, rectify my first impression? Uh, sorry if I came across sort of… weird.”

Everyone looks at the glowing kid. Everyone looks at each other. No one knows what to say. Flash decides to be the one to break the silence with a cough. “That’s great, kid! Uh… who are you, though?”

“Oh!” They startle. “Right. Me and Constantine met yesterday- I think I kind of scared him? It was by accident, though, I promise! I’d just had a long day, y’know? I didn’t know I was gonna get summoned and I wasn’t thinking so everything just kind of happened.”

No way. 

No. No way in Hell.

“You are not that thing I summoned yesterday.” 

And he knows, he knows entities like that tend to have forms more palatable for mortal eyes, but after seeing that yesterday, his brain just cannot for the life of it connect it to this. This child floating mid-air in a base he shouldn’t be able to access, with big huge earnest eyes and a painfully youthful face. One that seems to have reached a realisation. 

“Ah,” He says, smile just a little bit wry. “Fair enough, I did look kinda different then. Just- here, this should look a little more familiar?”

It’s not a full shift. He doesn’t contort into the same mind-searing thing that Constantine had had to bear yesterday- but his eyes scatter into neon spots across his face, nose and mouth left intact, the neck of his jumpsuit folds into the creases of an open eye, and those peacock-membrane-whatevers fall into fruition on his back, drifting like a cape or like spines. And just to top it all off, there’s a dinky little crown floating above his head, decorated with icicles and whispers of mist. 

It’s not a full shift, but Constantine’s never going to forget those damn cosmic peacock feathers. No mistaking it: that’s the entity. Forget yesterday, this is the worst day of his life. 

“What the Hell is happening right now.” Green Lantern flatlines, face dulled into non-understanding. Constantine thinks he feels the same way but worse. 

He takes a deep, cleansing breath, and tries not to scream. “You’re the one who sorted the Pit problem out?”

“Uh, yep, that’s me.”

“Okay, great! Fantastic. Can you tell me what the Hell that whole deal was?”

What’s left of the maybe teenager’s face drops somewhat, and a gloved hand reaches up to rub at the back of what’s left of his neck. “Ha, right, yeah sorry.” He mumbles, and Constantine kind of feels bad, but he’s also still kind of suffering from the adrenaline high of meeting the guy yesterday, so he guesses they’re even now. 

“So, I mean, I don’t usually look like that? It is my true form or whatever, but I’m not really… I don’t hang about in it too often. Gives people the heebie jeebies, y’know? I don’t want to scare people out of nowhere, especially not for a first meeting! But I was about to go to sleep last night when you summoned me, and I wanted to shift my form a little just to be more formal about the whole thing, but I guess I let the whole thing go by accident, and I didn’t realise at all until I got home. And if I was in that form by accident- I usually go with ghostspeak during summonings ‘cause it’s easier in that way and there’s usually translation sigils embedded in the circle- but if I was in that form by accident, then I was probably using a different dialect to the one I thought I was, so if I sounded kind of off, then that’s why. Again, really sorry about that. This was totally not how I wanted my first impression with the Justice League to go. You’re all really cool, y’know? I wanted to get off on the right foot and not the ‘let’s fight each other’ foot.”

Constantine blinks, opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and then blinks again. He’s sure there’s a reasonable response to this that can be expressed in a sentence somewhere, but right now he’s too enamoured with how utterly absurd this is. He genuinely, honestly does not know what’s worse: that this kid can turn into that, or that he can turn into that and it’s so natural he doesn’t even notice. 

Still, as consistent as the sun sets, Batman’s the first one to break the stupor, interjecting with narrowed eyes. “How do we know you’re not a threat to us? We don’t even know who you are.”

“Uh,” The kid splutters. “I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Danny.”

“Danny.” Batman replies flatly. 

“It’s a nice name!” Danny, apparently, defends, looking about as stupefied as someone can without eyes on their face. The dinky little crown drifts after him when he moves his head. “And, um, I don’t know how to prove I’m not a threat? I mean, I closed up that Lazarus Pit for you, if that counts as being helpful in a non-threatening way?”

If anything, Constantine would think that makes someone more threatening. “You said you wanted a favour for it, that you were going to ‘find your recompense’.”

“No I didn’t?” Danny says incredulously, before he pauses and his lips part in an O. “Right, translation error, duh. I uh, didn’t actually say that, that’s just how the sigils took it I think. You don’t owe me anything. It might be nice to get some help if I’m ever in a bind or something, but we didn’t make a deal or a pact or anything, you just asked for help, so I helped. 

His brain completely shuts down, blue-screen style. This isn’t how this type of thing goes. There’s no way this is that easy. “You seriously don’t want anything.” 

“I mean, an autograph might be nice. My friend thinks you and batman are cool.”

“You don’t think the rest of us are cool?” Flash complains, because that’s exactly what he’s supposed to be getting out of this conversation and not how utterly insane it is. 

Danny, the kid that’s going to be giving him nightmares and is already giving him migraines, has the audacity to look embarrassed. “I think you’re cool; obviously you’re all cool, you’re the Justice League! My friend’s just into the edgier members, I guess? She’s goth.”

“Oh? So who’s your favourite?” Why is no one acknowledging that the incomprehensible cosmic horror just called him edgy. Why are they just moving past this. 

“…Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern. I really like space.”

Yeah, no shit, he’s made of it. 

Constantine genuinely wants to pass out. He wants Batman to get him over the head with a batarang; he wants Superman to tap him on the forehead and give him a concussion, just- anything not to be here right now. This might not even be the weirdest thing that’s happened to him, but he’s hating every minute of it. This kid’s talking and existing like it’s nothing but even as the conversation begins to border on casual the atmosphere is still thick, nearly physical with the chill and the chiming of bells and the way something shifts every time those peacock feathers waver behind him. 

Right now, John really, truly does not care if this entity’s playing some kind of twisted long con to trick them into sacrificing their souls or something equally as horrifying. He just wants to go home and forget anything ever happened. “So, you’re not a malicious entity.” Constantine states finally, putting an end to any further back-and-forth that he’d managed to tune out. 

“I promise you I’m not.” Danny replies seriously, even as his features shift back to something more human-looking that only seems like it’s trying and failing to hide something bigger underneath it now. 

Constantine puts his hands in his pockets, and turns straight to the door. “Brilliant news. I’m leaving now. I hope we never have to see each other again.” The League and that kid can do whatever they want, but Constantine swears on everything he holds sacred that he’s not touching any of it with a ten-foot pole. He never wants to have to deal with anything like this again, and he is never agreeing to do Batman another favour. 

[goingmerryfics]

hi again! :D I hope you're doing well! im back with the killer requests again- could i request killer as a girl dad?

Girl Dad w/ Killer, Ace, & Law

Content: Obviously SFW & no reader mentioned, just characters and their little girls <3

Notes* YES and I added two more characters because I really wanted to do this prompt!!

Killer

He, also having long hair, LOVES to braid her and have his hair done/played with by her, too. It doesn’t matter how dumb he looks- with uneven ponytails, too many hairclips and bows everywhere -he loves the time spent together 

In fact, doing her hair in the morning is his favorite way of spending time with her. He loves getting a new request for a style every day, and it doesn’t matter how outrageous it sounds because it’s for his little princess

He would even ask around/read some books to teach him how to do hair like any mother would know how to do

He would also be so excited to teach his little girl how to cook! Not because of gender roles of course, but because it’s an activity that he loves to do and is a good life skill for anyone to have.

His lessons start with him holding her and letting her watch, then continue on into letting her add ingredients, and when she’s old enough and understands the dangers of using the stove/oven and knives and such, lets her stand beside him and make her own mini meal while he does the same, so she can watch his steps and perform them herself

It’s great, because she gets to have the freedom of adding whatever ingredients she likes to her food, while learning a life skill hands-on, and also getting to spend time with her dad

She adores her father, too

Only when they’re alone does he take off his mask and let her see him with no restrictions

And of course at one point, he had to explain why he looks the way he does. Maybe she was too young to understand it fully, but she loves him no matter what and that’s all that matters

And as she ages, she begins to look like him, too. At first it makes him uncomfortable- to have a little copy of his face, he wonders if she’ll face the same insecurities and hardships that he does when it comes to self-image. But that’s not the case at all- in fact, she adores that she looks like her daddy!

In a way, she teaches him how to love himself a little bit more.

Ace

He has no idea how to be a dad and he’s so confident in his ability to wing it until he actually comes face to face with the newborn baby girl. Then he panics

He doesn’t know how to parent! He’s hardly responsible for himself! 

Everything is a journey with him. Changing his first diaper, dealing with the constant crying, even making his first bottle is a disaster 

he lit it on fire trying to warm the milk with his devil fruit

And if you think for any moment that it would get easier as she grows, you’d be dead wrong.

She is just like him in terms of activity. She runs everywhere. Gets into everything she’s not supposed to, even at the age where she knows better. She just likes to watch her dad panic and run after her, it’s fun

She’s just as much of a hot-headed trouble maker, and at half his strength at Ace’s age, still just as daring

She’ll challenge anyone, which means Ace really has to keep a close eye on her when they’re in public. There are too many people out there that are happy to hit a kid if need be

But if anyone were to actually lay a finger on her, he would burn them from the inside out.

He calls his daughter his little firefly because of how she lit his life up after having her. For a self-deprecating man who believed himself unworthy of love to have someone in his arms who adored his every move, it only proved how needed he was by others. Not just her, but everyone in his life.

He loves to show her off to anyone that’ll listen, just like how he adores Luffy. Except he’ll hold her up like a trophy he’s won while he does it

While he has a hard time scolding his daughter, he does have his own way of parenting- it’s called distraction. Is she throwing a tantrum because she wants something she can’t have? He’ll start to tickle her, or pick her up by her ankle to hold her upside down, or do anything to make her laugh

He’s a work in progress dad, but he makes it work enough for the both of them. At least he’s proud that he can be a better father than his own was

Law

Law would be strict father, but he would melt with his little girl, and it’s a struggle for him

He values education and knowledge, and would want to teach her everything he knows. But that gets boring for a child, and sometimes he forgets that his little sweetheart needs a brain break every now and then

It’s not that she dislikes hearing her dad talking about medicines and health conditions, but sometimes what he tries to teach her is a little outside of her level of understanding

It would take a little bit for them to get on the same level, with Law reading some parenting books on the matter, but eventually they get into a rhythm of holding a daddy-daughter study session

It’s great. It means they get time alone to spend with each other, and while she’s studying, he can catch up on his own work, stopping only occasionally if she has a question about the text she’s reading so Law can clarify what it means in words that she can understand.

Therefore, his little sweetheart becomes very smart very quickly, and even starts to spout facts that she finds interesting at other crewmembers on the ship. Law is so proud.

Speaking of the others, he’s so protective of his daughter that he even restricted Shachi and Penguin from spending too much time with her after they taught her their mischievous pranks

He doesn’t want her to think that doing things that could potentially be very mean to others is funny. That’s his precious little sweetheart there, he wants her heart to be pure forever

Unfortunately for him though, he often finds her with them, scheming things that no matter what he does, he just can’t stop them because he could never actually give her trouble for something so small. It just annoys the hell out of him

With his past, Law is very careful to watch her health and when she is sick, she’s treated like royalty. Law brings her anything she wants, carries her everywhere, and spends as much time as he can with her all the while blaming himself for her sickness, even if it’s something completely unavoidable

She’s a little bit spoiled since Law won’t really punish her too hard

(Once he put her in timeout and she cried for a little while, and Shachi and Penguin had to hold him back when he immediately tried to go back on it and run to hug her to tell her everything was fine)

But no matter what, they love each other and that’s all that matters

[lunajay33]

Change Part.6

•🎀🩰🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.5

•Masterlist•

It had been a week since the incident with the walker, Daryl refused to let me go out alone again and I didn’t blame him I didn’t want to be alone either it was too risky, it wasn’t just my life in danger, I had a baby to worry about and I refused to leave Daryl alone in a world like this, I rolled over in bed admiring his sleeping form, his hair all crazy, I love him so much and the fact that our family was just about to begin tore something from me that I always dreamed about

“Mornin” he grumbled as I ran my hand through his hair

“Sorry did I wake you?”

“Nah I was up a while ago just waiting for ya”

“Mmmm” I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but my mood was at an all time low and I didn’t wanna drag Daryl down too

“What’re ya thinking about” he asked as he squeezed my hip

“Nothing”

“Angel I know ya like the back of my hand, I know when yer over thinking”

I sighed hating that he’s always been able to crack me out of my shell he shown me time and time again that I can trust him with anything, he’ll we’re having a baby together why shouldn’t I tell him

“Just been thinking where my family are now, I know I haven’t talked to them in like a year but I still wonder if they’re even alive”

“The last time you talked to them they called ya a selfish slut, ya shouldn’t worry about them, all they’ve ever done was hurt ya angel, we got our own family now, one that’ll love ya more than they ever could” Daryl wasn’t much of a big speech kinda guy but when he knew I needed comforting he pushed that side of him away to be there for me

“Yeah I guess you’re right, like usual” I said laughing as he pulled me closer so I could lay my head in his chest

I was sat in the living room curled in a blanket reading the new twilight book hearing the rain patter against the windows, the smell of a roast in the oven that Daryl had put in, right when I got to the part where Edward was leaving Bella the phone rang, Daryl at my side handed it over scoffing at the caller ID

Caller ID: Jackson L/N

“This can’t be good” I sighed clicking answer and putting it on speaker

“Hello?”

“You need to come home” not even a hi or nothing

“Why? None of you have bothered to contact me in months what is it this time?”

“Dad lost his job, mom and dad need money for rent” I could see the anger written all over Daryl’s face

“Jackson I have my own life now, I can’t be helping you guys out ever time you need money, I have bills of my own and I don’t wanna waste my money on people who don’t even care about me”

“Are you serious right now?” He asked enraged

“Why can’t you help, you’re the one that got that football scholarship, I had to work my way through university and I’m still paying off student loans, plus Daryl and I have to pay for our house and car and motorcycle”

“You know what this is done, you’re out of this family for good this time, mom and dad should’ve gotten rid of you when they had the chance you selfish slut” the phone disconnected signalling he hung up

I looked at Daryl feeling my chest tighten, I never wanted this I was never the golden child in their eyes, I only ever felt like I mattered when Daryl came into my life

“He’s lucky this was over the phone or I’d beat him into the ground” Daryl groaned rubbing my legs over the blanket

“Why am I never good enough for them?”

“Ya got that wrong Angel, they ain’t good enough for you”

As I sat outside eating breakfast Daryl and Merle got ready for the day, Merle was going to Atlanta with some people from the camp and Daryl was going out hoping to find a deer he’s been tracking for a while

“I gotta go now Angel” Daryl said as he stung his crossbow over his shoulder

“But I don’t want you to go” I whined getting up to wrap my arms around him

“I know but I’ll be back later this evening just try and stay around the other, don’t want another problem like last week” he said placing a kiss to my cheek

“Fine just promise me you’ll be safe out there, that you’ll come back to me”

“Promise”

He picked up some extra arrows and disappeared through the tree line

“Ya got him wrapped around yer lil finger don’t ya” Merle mocked

“Come on Merle can’t you just be happy that he’s happy, I know you don’t like me much but you’re my family now and I’m yours, plus I’m carrying your niece or nephew can’t we just be cordial for once” I said exhausted from his constant bickering

“Don’t matter ta me ya got knocked up, ya made my brother soft and yer gonna see ya ruined his life” he picked up his weapons and left the camp site leaving with the Atlanta crew

“God when do I catch a break?” I sat back down in the camp chair not noticing someone sit next to me until they talked

“You okay sweetie?” It was Lori

“It’s just Merle, always a pain in my ass, just been thinking about what’s gonna happen now with the baby and everything I’m just scared” I looked at here to see if she’d give me advice but here eyes were wide

“What?” I asked confused

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yeah, I guess we never really mentioned it”

“You know when I found out I was pregnant with Carl, I was a wreck I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do with myself, but the moment I saw him curled up in my arms so little without a care in the world, I knew what I had to do to protect him from harm, everything will be okay” she smiled patting my back

“Thanks, that helps a bit I just wish it wasn’t in these circumstances”

“How far along are you?”

“About 4 months now, I’ve been taking my prenatals and everything”

“Well I’m always here if you have questions about the baby or changes you go through, but I have to go cut Carls hair”

Something clicked, maybe since this was a new start for Daryl and I and with the baby in this new world maybe I needed a new look, something to liven my spirits

“Umm Lori, would you be up for cutting my hair too!” I asked as I ran up next to her as she walked towards her camp

“I’d love to”

I sat next to Shane as Lori worked on Carls hair, he couldn’t stop complaining but it was adorable

“One day you’re gone wish you had her cutting your hair” Shane said laughing

“Doubt it”

“Trust me Carl, one day you’ll crave to be have these moments again with your mom, it may not seem like it but you will” I said seeing a little smile on his rosy cheeks

“Alright you’re all done” Lori said as she swiped off his extra hair on his shirt

I sat down in front of her as she wrapped a towel around my shoulders

“Alright how short do you want it?” My hair was down to my mid lower back

“How about just below my shoulder”

“That’s quit a chop”

“Well I need it”

She held my hair back and it a split second it was chopped, she straightened out some uneven pieces and it was done

“Well what do you think?”

“It’s really nice Mrs. Dixon!” Carl said with a beaming smile

“Well thank you but you can call me y/n sweetie” he was adorable I hope my child is as sweet as him

“It suits you perfect dear”

“Thank you! I should go clean some clothes done at the quarry, if you need anything I’ll be down there!”

I spent most of the evening down at the quarry cleaning and scribbling mine and daryls dirty clothes, laying them out on some rocks to let them dry, meanwhile dipping my feet in the cool water helping to sooth my ankles that have been getting a bit swollen

I looked around hoping no one was near, I haven’t been able to get a good proper bath in a while so I stripped down my clothes leaving only my bra and panties, submerging myself in the lake floating belly up watching the clouds pass by just like the time Daryl took me here

“Daryl Dixon did you drag me out here just to see me naked?” I asked smirking as he started taking off his shoes and pants

“Come on it’s nice out yer gonna love it” he said as he was stepping into the lake

I bit my lip feeling that thrill shoot through me, I stripped to just my panties and bra, I walked over taking his hand

“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”

“Ya sure?” I knew he was embarrassed about his scars but they weren’t his fault

“You know they don’t bother me, I love you for you, not what happen to you” I said squeezing his hand reassuringly

He lifted it over his head and threw it back over to my clothes pill

“Come on Dixon show me how great this’ll be, better not let me drown” I laughed as I dragged him in

“Still can’t believe yer my girl”

“And I’ll be your girl until you’re sick of me”

“Never”

“Well well well what do we have here?” I heard behind me as I pulled on my clothes after drying off

“What do you want Ed?” I groaned feeling that touch of fear he instilled in the women of the camp

“Showing yourself down here for the whole camp, you’re asking for it” he said stepping closer

“Leave me alone Ed”

“Ya ain’t got your man around who’s gonna stop me?”

“Don’t you touch me or you’ll be sorry”

He stepped closer squeezing my jaw now face to face

“Like I said ain’t no one gonna stop me” he said as his other hand started to wander down my arm

Before he could get any further he was ripped away Shane throwing him to the ground

“Touch her or anyone else again Ed and I’ll beat ya to death I swear, come on y/n” I gathered up all the clothes I washed and ran to Shane’s side as he lead me safely back to the camp

“Thanks, I didn’t know anyone was around”

“Ain’t your fault, Ed’s one sick man you stay away from him, stay with the group until Daryl or Merle gets back”

I sat down next to Amy folding up the laundry still to shaken up to have conversation that’s when a car alarm was ringing around the quarry, the group was back and it felt a little better knowing Merle would be here while Daryl was gone, Shane shut off the car alarm and others filtered out of a cargo truck

Lori and Carl had their moment with their “back from the dead” father and husband which was incredibly heart warming but then I realized something

“Where’s Merle?”

Part.7

Please please please give me some ideas for this story going forward🩷 How should I incorporate the ballerina story line into the new world??:)

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove

[html-nae]

T R A P S O U L

42!Miles x fem!OC

Beginning of the 42!Miles x fem!OC series

WC: 1055

Sometimes she wished he knew. But she tried so hard to disguise the truth, he walked around with a bright smile that lit up the room so she acted like she was happy. She sat there day after day, thinking.

Wondering.

If his mind played this game too. Thinking about him and her. Miles and Harmony. Together. Not Miles and Gwen.

The girl that was the complete opposite of Harmony.

Short blonde hair with one side shaved instead of long dark brown goddess braids.

Bright blue eyes instead of honey brown eyes.

Pale skin instead of deep brown skin.

A spider person instead of a normal student in Brooklyn.

In a completely different dimension instead of dimension 1610.

Even though they were completely different. They both shared one same factor. They were both crushing on the hopeless dork that manages to be late to everything and charm his way out of trouble. The same lanky kid that swings around the cities in New York and save countless lives. The same kid that buries his head in one of his many sketchbooks and fills the pages with the same thing.

Gwen Stacy.

Harmony decided to pretend that her feelings didn’t exist to save her the heartbreak and embarrassment of crushing on her best friend. At least until it all made sense.

Yeah. That’ll work.

“Harmony?” Miles called out, waving his hand in front of her face to bring her back to reality. “You listening?”

Harmony shot him a small smile and nodded as he continued on with his rant about how the new ‘villain of the week’ he encountered earlier that day and soon derailing into what Gwen would do.

Seeing him face to face and realizing how different everything had changed made her think about the days they used to be. When they would sit on this same roof top and watch the sunset. Like they are now. Except it was full of laughter and it wasn’t a one sided conversation. It wasn’t about the ‘villain of the week’ or ‘the one that got away’. It was always about art and the new album that came out earlier in the week or debates about which pizza place was the best or what Jordans would look better with whatever outfit they could put together. That was before everything changed.

Before Miles became the friendly neighborhood hero. Before his Uncle Aaron died. Before the multiverse was at stake. Before Miles fell for Gwen.

Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene.

Harmony thought while holding in an annoyed breath.

“Harmony? What’s wrong?” Miles asked. He looked concerned. It made her a little happy.

At least he still cares.

“Nothing Morales. Worry about your own.” She said, pushing his shoulder and laughing.

I’m trying not to make it seem like I want you. Even if it’s true.

“If you say so Harmony.” He said with a smile, turning back to look off into the city.

Harmony. Not Ny Ny or Ny or any of the stupid nicknames he came up with when they were younger. Just Harmony. Boring and plain Harmony.

She watched the sun sit on his skin, it made her feel warm and fuzzy. She remembered when they used to have sleepovers at his house. Smushed on his twin sized bed, reading comic books together all night not realizing until the sun came up. But that didn’t matter, because they were happy. Comfortable.

Harmony Jones wanted to stay in the world they created. The world that they filled with Uncle Aaron’s music, Mama Rio’s cooking, Papa Davis’ jokes, and Miles’ art. But that world was gone now. She believed that nothing and nobody would break the bond they had. She believed that she couldn’t find anyone that would get her like Miles so she never went out looking for anything. Never had a boyfriend. Or any situations like it. All she needed was Miles.

Sure, Harmony had other friends. But at the end of the day the only one she knew she could fall back on was Miles Morales. The boy from down the street that would put bandaids on her scraped knees when she would fall playing basketball. The boy that would write letters to her in class when she was having a bad day. The boy that would always give her his full attention when she wanted or needed it.

“Harmony. What are you thinking about?” Miles stopped talking a while ago when he realized his friend wasn’t listening to him like she said she was. Harmony was always lost in thought and he had to give it to her. She had him beat.

“Nothing.” She responded.

“Harmony. I need you to be honest with me. You’re always switching up. Well, not switching up, but you’re lost in thought a lot and that isn’t like you. I’m worried about you.”

He looked concerned. He really did. He was worried about his friend.

“It’s nothing Miles. Swear. I’m just worried about this exam coming up.”

Lies.

He believed it though.

And she believed that they would be good. Except she had to accept the fact that they’ve been done. Long before anything begun. They weren’t together, they never were and they probably never will be.

Harmony Jones lets him lead her on. The times he came crawling through her window, battered and bruised pleading for help so he doesn’t have to explain to his parents why he looks the way he does. It ends with him falling asleep in her bed. An arm around her waist and his head buried in her neck. Along with him gone before the morning comes.

It was a continuous thing. She was used to it. Did she want to get used to it? No, but it was as close as she was going to get to anything with Miles. He leaned on her and she leaned on him. Even if that meant having to listen to him gush about some girl that was only here for three days then gone for the next year and a half without a single word.

Even if it meant having to be there and have her heart torn in two while she watched Miles fall for someone that wasn’t her.

All because she disguised the truth and let her mind play this game.

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3

[ash-lash]

school bus graveyard headcanons!! (Just my opinion)

Ashlyn🎧

When she’s practicing ballet she has her music low. So when anyone walks in they don’t hear it and wonder what the absolute what is she doing.

Ashlyn refuses to be around Aiden when he’s eating jolly ranchers because he crunches on them and if she has to hear that one more time she’s sticking them to his bedroom window

Prefers soft food over crunchy food due to how it feels in her ears and how it sounds. (you know when you hear the food you eat? That’s what I mean)

When she goes to ballet practice she always looks out for Aiden ever since she showed him where the studio was. He showed up once and Ashlyn had the instructor lock him outside.

Aiden🧩

Loves puzzles to the point where he has a stash of them that he hasn’t completed in a box because one day he knows he’ll finish them. (Spoiler alert he gets side tracked and never does)

Tries to break his habit of crunchy on jolly ranchers around ash to make her more comfortable. But she did stick one to his head once and now he prefers the gummy jolly ranchers.

When he shows up to Ashlyn’s dance studio he always tries to go around the back but ash always seem to know his next move and locks his entrance points.

Ben 🥊

Throws hands with parents that hit their kids. You cannot tell me he has not had the internal fight of trying not to slam a parent into the clothes rack when they spank their kids in public.

He once helped a cat stuck in a tree when he was a kid and it scratched him. And while he was disinfecting them Aiden had a talk with him about not getting close to things that’ll hurt you.

Aiden managed to make him dye his hair blonde or match him once and that’s why his hair is so short cause he had to start over cause of the bleach.

Tyler ⚾️

Hates cold weather, will immediately go back inside when it’s cold or later himself up more.

Him and Taylor used to have staring contests as kids and neither of them would look away until their dad or mom grabbed them and moved them away from each other

Judges Aiden whenever Aiden says something dumb. He thinks how can he be rich and dumb. But he never says it out loud cause he has respect for aiden since most of them know aiden is actually really smart.

Taylor 🪛

Once cut her hair to match Tyler’s and their mom couldn’t tell them apart for days

Once made a robot to attack Barron with but Tyler dismantled it and talked to her about it.

Thought about joining the cheer team since some of her friends were on it but decided against it.

Pulls all-nighters to finish projects and mechanical stuff.

Logan📚

Loves reading. I kinda think he’d read books off of booktok and when he does he’d honestly be to scared to even go back on the app.

He used to always wear long socks but them changed to leggings instead to be a bit more fashionable.

Thought about getting contacts but putting anything near his eyes makes him shudder and he’d rather not.

His grandparents make good food and so he invites the group over sometimes and they have a good time eating

Once discovered how to make a hallucinogenic concoction when he was making mulch and mixed two flowers together.

Has books all over his room. Tyler once came over to help him organize. And the next day it was back the way it was.

Logan has his favorite books on a small shelf in his room and rereads them every morning and night.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

COLLISION

Astarion x Y/N - Chapter 4 - 3.9K WC

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (you are here!)

Chapter 5 NSFW 18+

Chapter 6 NSFW 18+

Chapter 7 NSFW 18+

Warnings: mention of SA (not detailed), drug use (elixir), slightly steamy (not NSFW)

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

A sunbeam perfectly aimed for your face is what woke you. The warmth making you smile before you lazily got up from your bedroll, wincing a bit. You saw everyone seemingly at the bonfire looking like they were ready to head out. Everyone apart from a certain vampire. You jogged over to the campfire from your tent. 

“Y/N! Thank the gods you’re awake. We were all going to head out and visit a merchant, care to join us?” Karlach beamed. 

You went to answer but you winced, hard. Enough for Karlach and the others to notice. You lifted up your shirt to reveal the wound the nurse left on your lower stomach. 

“That’s infected, no wonder you’re in pain.” Gale said, moving to retrieve a salve from his backpack. “Here,” he said, rubbing it into your skin before conjuring gauze to cover it. It felt cool and soothed the hateful heat emitting from the wound. “That’ll take a few hours to clear the infection out and fully heal the wound. You’ll need to stay here and rest for the day. Astarion will stay with you; help keep the camp safe and keep you company.”

“Sure it's a good idea keeping those two together?” Shadowheart asked, alluding to the punching incident. 

“We’ll be fine.” you reassured her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. 

“Well we best be off. Want anything from the merchant?” Karlach asked.

“I’d love a book or two if you could find any for cheap.” you asked shyly, “I’ll pay you back when I can.”

Karlach shook her head, “No need, books it is! Rest easy soldier!” she said starting to leave camp.

Gale clapped your shoulder before leaving, “Books, eh? A cleric after my own heart.” he smiled.

And just like that, camp was quiet aside from the occasional bird. You elected to change into a different pair of small clothes. A simple black, flowy long sleeve. Much too large for you but that's what made it so comfy. Slipping on a new pair of under shorts you hauled your dirty clothes and armor to the streamside. You trudged back up the hill to grab your phone. So far it hasn’t needed to be enchanted again, it has yet to fall below 100%. You peered into Astarion’s tent as you walked past it, he was still asleep (meditating?), best to leave him alone. 

Returning to the stream with your phone you started to play music. The soft beats of Cooks by Still Woozy bumped along as you softly sang to it, cleaning your clothes and armor. 

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

Astarion watched you walk up and down the hill to the stream twice, acting asleep when you peered into his tent. He snuck down the hill, grabbing two bright red apples before standing a few feet behind you. The music you listened to was strange, nothing like he had heard before. Your world must have been strange. He made his way to you, shifting the rocks as he walked so he wouldn’t startle you. You looked up at him, a smile graced your face that would put the sun to shame. His rare doe eyes made an appearance along with a genuine smirk. Nothing seductive or tricky about it, just unhideable glee. He felt so wrong and yet so right being this happy with another person. Most of all he felt confused, unsure of how to proceed with all these new feelings that accompanied freedom. He pushed the anxiety to the back of his mind, silently holding out one of the apples to you. You gently put your armor down, wiping your wet hands on your shirt quickly before taking the fruit. 

“Thank you.” you smiled at him before motioning for him to sit with you as you took a bite. Astarion sat with his back against the tree you had hung your clothes on to dry. His feet next to your legs as you sat criss cross fully facing him. He ate a few bites of his apple before looking into your eyes.

“What?” he asked, he had felt you staring at him.

“Sorry! I just… I didn’t know vampires could eat real food.” you tried to say casually, finding your apple to be most interesting in the moment as you stared at it in your lap.

He chuckled, “We need blood to survive but we can still imbibe in the pleasures of mortals.”

You nodded, giving a short chuckle of embarrassment. 

Astarion bent his head a little to catch your eyes which you quickly averted. He sighed, “Any other vampiric queries? You must be dying to know…” he smirked his usual taunting smirk at you. 

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable…” you eyed him.

His heart grew two sizes. You cared about his feelings? You weren't going to make him talk if he didn’t want to? You surprised him everyday, and today was no exception. He nodded at you.

“Can you eat garlic?” you asked.

He laughed and looked at you confused, “Are vampires from your world so weak they can be taken out by a vegetable?” 

“Apparently.” you laughed, “How come you can be in the sun?”

“That’s a new development thanks to our little worms. Usually I’d be a pile of ash.” he grimaced at the end. 

You nodded curtly, “Wooden stake to the heart, is that lethal for vampires here?”

“Who wouldn’t that kill?” he asked rhetorically. 

“Good point.” you said finishing your apple before throwing the core into the stream, Astarion doing the same shortly after. “How old are you?”

“230.” he said softly, the air changing into something sour. 

You looked at him empathetically, scooching closer so you could sit next to him. Hesitantly you softly grabbed his hand, giving him every opportunity to pull away. He watched you trace his knuckles, veins, tendons, etc. You spoke softly as you interlaced your fingers, “People often speak in riddles when trying to comfort others… but the pain you’ve endured. All I can say is I’m so sorry Astarion. So very sorry.” You gently kissed the back of his hand before continuing to trace his veins.

He nodded and looked down to hide the stray tear that threatened to spill. He squeezed your hand before letting it go. “Would you like to do something fun?” he asked suddenly.

You pulled your hand back, missing his touch already all the while suppressing any urges to crave intimacy with him. “Absolutely! It seems we have the camp to ourselves today, no better time to do something fun.” you smiled at him standing up. You moved your armor to a large rock so everything could start drying. Astarion walked to his tent and you followed. He turned to you after digging in his supply pack for a moment. He held a rectangular bottle with a dazzling gold liquid swirling about inside. 

“Elixir of Folly.” he said, handing it to you. You inspected the bottle before popping the lid open. A few random sparkles fizzled out before you brought the bottle to your nose, it smelled like vanilla and death. You quickly pulled it back from your face. Astarion laughed at your reaction. He gently took the open bottle from you.

“Don’t worry, a little death is what makes this so fun. You’ll be fine I promise.” he said before drinking half the bottle. He handed the rest to you, waiting to see if you trusted him enough to try it. You took the bottle, “Cheers?” you said quizzically before gulping down the drink. You didn’t feel any different.

“So… what does it do? Make you happy or something?” you asked, sitting on his bedroll. He sat next to you knocking your shoulder with his playfully. 

“Euphoric is a better term. Let's just say this potion is for… recreational use.” He could feel a gentle warmth engulf him. His brain felt fuzzy and everything seemed full of wonder. A gentle smile laid on his face as his eyes glossed over.

You felt the same sensations, “I’m sorry but did we just do drugs? Magical drugs?” you said with a slight panic to your voice. 

“Darling, with all due respect, shut up and enjoy just this once. Please?” he sighed.

You put your hands up in surrender, “Alright, I trust you.” 

His eyes widened a bit, the soft glow around you surely proved you were an angel. A stupid idea really, to trust him. And yet, all he could feel was pride and joy at the fact that you trusted him and wanted to protect him. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he trusted you too. Is this what it feels like to be cared for? You let out a long sigh, pulling him from his thoughts. He watched you shift so your whole body was laying in the pleasant sunlight. You stretched, reminding him of a cat on a sunny day. Your hand flew up, eyes still closed. He looked at your hand before taking it. You yanked him down so he was laying next to you in the sun. He quickly relaxed, stretching and making himself comfortable in the sun. He watched you, memorizing your face while it was blissed out. 

“Ya know,” you began softly, keeping your eyes shut “I never do this in my world. I feel like I belong to the dark there. It's… lonely and… miserable if I’m honest. I like being here with you. With all of you. I don’t even know if I want to go back.” you hummed, a little smile never leaving your face. 

What Astarion neglected to tell you was that Elixir of Folly was known for loosening tongues and dropping guards as well as its euphoric side effects. He really had no ill intentions, he really did just want to have fun with you. But he couldn’t help but hope for exactly what was happening, you dropping your guard enough for him to probe. 

“You don’t want to go home?” he asked, gently brushing a piece of hair out of your closed eyes. 

Your eyes fluttered open, you turned on your side so you were facing him. You softly took his hand that brushed your hair away, holding it to your cheek and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles repeatedly. “If I’m honest… it never felt like home. I was stuck doing the same mundane thing over and over again every day… it made life… melancholic.” you sighed, looking down sadly. It's true, life wasn’t easier before all this happened to you. Drowning in bills, fighting depression, being alone. Maybe that's why you thought so little of going home. You don’t really want to go back, but you should… shouldn’t you? The longer you stayed in Baldur’s Gate the less you missed your old life, the less you remembered it. 

Astarion hummed, rubbing his thumb over your cheek bone. “Really? No lovers are going to miss you terribly?” he asked.

You let out a huff that was almost a chuckle, “I haven’t had a lover in quite some time.” you replied.

“Oh? And why’s that?” he said quietly shifting ever so slightly closer to you.

“I was tired of being used. I’d rather have nothing than be used like a collection of parts for somebody else.” you paused for a moment before flicking your eyes to his momentarily, “I’d live 1000 lifetimes alone if it meant I got to have one love. One true love. But… I don’t know if I was made to be loved. I think I was made to love others. To look after everyone else and make sure they feel okay. Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood I suppose.” you sighed. 

“I understand,” he whispered. Trying to change the mood he quickly asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

You giggled at his ungraceful change of topic but let it slide, “Black.” you replied.

“Favorite book?”

“A Portrait of Dorian Grey.” you said quickly. “Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.” you quoted aloud.

Astarion smiled, he liked that you enjoyed reading. Even more impressive that you could recall quotes from the book so easily. He felt the quote sink into his mind, thinking how something tragic must be behind you just as there is for him. 

“A secret?” he asked hesitantly, looking at you.

“I like you a lot. Even when you didn’t like me. It made me so sad you didn’t like me. It made me even sadder when you wanted to have sex because I know you don’t want to.” you rattled off, sounding progressively more sleepy and unfocused. 

Astarion’s chest gave a squeeze, “How did you know I didn’t want to?”

“I know what it’s like to have someone do things to your body that you don’t want. I also know what it’s like to feel like you owe someone your body. Both are wretched feelings. I could see them in your eyes. I’d never want to hurt you, especially like that.” you mumbled, unconsciously snuggling yourself into his chest as you drifted off to sleep. 

Astarion let this tear slip down his face. He listened to your even heartbeat, he watched the hypnotic rise and fall of your chest. He held you while you slept until he too started to feel drowsy.

“I’m going to fall for you and it will kill me 1000 times over when you inevitably leave.” he whispered to nobody in particular, slipping into a dreamless sleep. 

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

Karlach and everyone else went back to their tents as soon as they all came back. Everyone was exhausted from having to walk two towns over since the usual merchant wasn’t in town today. She walked past Astarion’s tent with little care until she noticed four feet just barely peeking outside of the tent flap. Her curiosity got the better of her and she opened the tent flap slightly. Her fiery heart jolted with happiness. The two of you lost in slumber and each other's arms. Karlach silently took your phone from next to you, she took a picture of the two of you. She had come to love your phone, especially after she learned how to take selfies. Gently plopping the phone back down next to you, she backed away from the tent. 

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

You awoke to the ghosting of a hand rubbing soft circles on your exposed hip and lower back. Fluttering your eyes open, you were met with Astarion’s ruby eyes. You jolted back a little, the feeling of the elixir completely gone. You tried to scoot away but he held you in place. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll go…” you said, again trying to leave. You couldn’t believe you fell asleep on the one person who didn’t need the pressure or even the innuendo of intimacy. 

“Stay?” Astarion asked hopefully, readjusting his grip on your hip so he could pull you back to him. 

“Astarion stop, you don’t have to..” you looked at him with a fragile gaze. 

“But what if I want to?” he said against your lips as he finally pulled you flush to him, in the softest tone you’d ever heard him utter. His eyes looked between your lips and eyes repeatedly, asking an unspoken question. 

You wish you could. Gods you do. But you couldn’t tell if this was real, or if he had ulterior motives. Your eyes grew sad as you placed your hand on his chest, putting space between the two of you. 

“We shouldn’t.” you said painfully. 

Astarion felt a pang in his chest, not the good kind. Did you not feel the air grow thick and sweet whenever you two were alone? He shifted his gaze downwards feeling hurt but determined not to show it.

He cleared his throat before swiftly pulling away and getting up, “We should join the others, I can smell whatever they’re roasting out there.” He helped you up with one arm. 

Truth be told, your heart hurt just as much as his unbeating one. You wanted so badly to touch him, to feel him, to know him in every way. The last few weeks you have been together have brought you so much closer and every day you fell more and more for the pale elf. You’d never say it was love stirring inside you. Not out loud at least. 

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

The group quickly took to drinking when a new companion came to camp that night. Halsin had finally returned. You introduced yourself and found yourself drinking with the friendly druid like you were old friends. You had quite the green thumb back home, plants covered your home wall to wall. You two talked about nature endlessly and before you knew it, you felt drunk. Karlach had started to play music on your phone a while ago, everyone had come to like having the music going during supper. Astarion sat on the adjacent log at the campfire, unusually quiet beside Karlach. He watched you light up for the druid. Has he misread everything between you two over the past few weeks? 

A particularly lively song came on, Allegro by Antonio Vivaldi. Halsin stood, extending his hand to you. You looked at him, your cheeks warming “I… I’m sorry… I don’t exactly know how to dance to this type of music.” 

“Where better to learn than among friends?” he declared pulling you up and to the side of the campfire. 

Halsin was patient. He taught you the most simple waltz, or what you could call a waltz in your state. You giggled and smiled, it was infectious. Everyone seemed to enjoy the sight. Everyone except Astarion who huffed and walked back to his tent after the third song had passed. He couldn’t bear to watch you grow close to another. The way Halsin put his hands on you so gently. Could he ever do such a thing? To watch someone else end up with someone he wanted so desperately. So purely. It left an awful taste in his mouth and a wrenching in his heart.

You spun around and finished your dance. Out of breath you thanked Halsin for the lovely dances before excusing yourself and trotting after Astarion.

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

You knocked lightly on the tent post. Astarion hummed, expecting another one of your companions perhaps. You entered his tent and he tutted looking away from you. 

“What?” he said sharply.

“I wanted to check on you… why’d you leave?” you said shifting from foot to foot, his tone making you feel uneasy.

“Oh you noticed? I thought you’d be in Halsin’s bed by now.” the venom in his voice made you cringe, stepping back from him.

“What? Why would you think that? I just met him tonight?” you sounded confused.

“Like that would stop you.” He said standing up, moving to walk past you.

You ignored the way you felt your eyes getting misty, putting your hand against his chest making him stop and look at you. “You’re being hurtful. Why?” you asked.

He sighed, the last time he tried this approach it got him punched so he might as well attempt to talk to you about his feelings. If he could manage it.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” he whispered, his own eyes misting. 

You bit your lip before responding truthfully, “Because I don’t know if you truly want it. Or if you’re trying to use me. I… I can't do that again, Astarion. I won't.” you paused, taking in a shaky breath “And I won't let you use yourself to get something from me. You need but ask and I will do as you ask without hesitation.”

“Kiss me then.” he asked, his eyes big and pleading.

You looked down, shaking your head. You let the tears fall but did your best to keep quiet so Astarion didn’t hear you breaking. You crumbled to the ground, the weight of everything sinking you. Astarion descended with you. He looked so soft, so concerned. So unlike the snooty jerk you initially met. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, taking your hand, tracing your knuckles, veins, tendons, etc. “You could cut me down and I’d ask you to do it again. Everything with you feels unlike anything else. It drives me mad honestly.” His admission shocked you, you went to reply before he spoke again, “And yet, I seek you out every day because whatever you have poisoned me with… it's as if you are the antidote. I cannot breathe when you are not near. I rise and rest with my thoughts being overwhelmed by you.” he sighed shakily. 

You looked at him, absolutely gobsmacked. Your tears hadn’t ceased; Astarion raised his hand hesitantly before deciding to beg forgiveness instead of asking permission before he wiped your cheeks with his thumb. He held your face in his palm, the lump in his throat growing with each passing moment. 

“I want you. That is my choice, that is my decision, those are my feelings. And if you won’t have me just say the -” Astarion’s preparation for rejection caught in his throat when you consumed him in the most feather light kiss. Your hands shook as you gingerly held his face, ever so lightly deepening the kiss. You pulled back slightly, eyeing him for a reaction. His eyes were closed, he had a smile on his lips, and his tongue darted out to taste yourself on him. 

“Can I do that again?” you ask barely above a whisper. He was captivating. His lips tasted like brandy and you could get lost in them forever. 

“As you wish.” he said, opening his eyes. Pulling you to him so that you straddled him. He felt you tense above him, not putting your weight on him. “We can stop if either of us feels anything besides pleasure.” he assured you as he held your face with one hand and your hip with another. He looked so calm, as if this is right where he wanted to be. You settled yourself in his lap quickly before going back to his lips. You moved them hesitantly before he kissed you with so much passion it made your head spin. The kiss quickly turned into a battle for dominance but it was no surprise that the man with 200 years experience over you won. Astarion moved to lay you down, you felt his hands roam your body. He kissed your jaw, moving down to your neck, then your collar bones. His fingers gently untied the laces of your shirt. 

You went rigid.

Scared

Is what rang out in his mind. He quickly pulled off of you, glancing you over to see if he had somehow hurt you. 

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, pulling your shirt together. “Can we… not do anything more?” 

Astarion’s worry faded into understanding, “Of course.” he smiled as he pulled off of you. “Could I be so bold as to ask you to stay? Just to sleep!” he quickly clarified.

You smiled up at him, your erratic heartbeat already returning to normal. “I’d love to.” you said as you shifted yourself on his bedroll. 

He laid next to you gently, pulling a silken blanket over the two of you. Of course he had a silk blanket for sleeping on the ground. You chuckled to yourself at the thought. You curled into his chest once again, falling asleep all too quickly. Astarion ran his fingers through your hair, he kissed your forehead one final time before closing his eyes, preparing for sleep to take him.

“To the beginning of my end.” he cheers’ed himself.

Hello! Some not awesome stuff happened in life recently, so I thought I'd write a bit. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Next chapter might have some NSFW stuff in it. What do you think? Please let me know if there is anything you'd like to see in the story or suggestions you may have. I love getting comments! Thanks for reading! <3

[lethargicmouse]

tell us your favorites everlark fics

Thanks for the ask!! They make me very excited lol. I honestly don’t read a lot of everlark lol, I’m more of a hayeffie fan with a side of everlark. Just becuase I feel like mother Suzanne did a good job with them in the books. But truly, a lot of my fav hayeffie ships are from either Peeta or Katniss’ perspective.

The ones listed here are mostly post epilogue (:

( I lied they are all post epilogue.)

this is the first day of my life by sam_writes_fics @sam-loves-seb ----> "It’s not perfect. None of them are perfect. But that’s not the point. // katniss and peeta and haymitch and effie and their life after everything;" I LOVE THIS IT WAS GOOD

You Are in Love (Everlark's Version) by bored_author ---> "A collection of one-shots about Katniss and Peeta working through their traumas, together." This is probably the most everlark one on here. It was cute

The Team Trap by EllanaSan @ellainthetardis (my queen omg) ---> "'What’s the very good reason that’ll get her to come?/ Katniss asked. Peeta was silent for a moment, his hand stilled on her back. 'It involves a technical white lie.' In her experience, lies were hardly ever technical or white." I love EllanaSan with my entire heart.

End of the World by FernWithy ---> Ok this is a very Haymitch centered series but it literally rocked my world and I think everyone needs to read this. There is some awesome POV's of characters you rarely hear from. Delly gets the spotlight she deserves and Peets gets it, too. It's a wonderful, long read that I'd highly reccomend.

Sorry there isn't more! I have lots of other fics that I really enjoy that are from Peeta or Katniss' view that are just more Hayeffie centric (linked under the line (: ), I tried to pull the more Everlark ones for you !

they got no idea (about me and you) by fckingpoetry ---> "peeta looks for advice on how to keep katniss safe in the arena and walks in on haymitch and effie sleeping in the same bed." I cannot stress how much I love this author. And any fic where the kids find out about Effie and Haymitch makes me giggle.

The Clue in the Yoghurt by EllanaSan ---> "In retrospect, Haymitch should have known something was up the morning he walked into his kitchen, rubbing his face to chase the remnants of sleep, and found Katniss pilfering his fridge." So silly, Katniss accidental pregnancy and it makes me smile to see hayeffie acting like the parents they are.

Sprinkled on Your Life by KarlyBING ---> "With all her silliness, shallowness, and overbearing ways, Effie had still cried while holding her after coming back from the arena, she was the one to publicly unite them during the Quell, cared for her during a war, braided her hair when she was too depressed to do it herself, made her wedding dress out of worn cotton shirts and second-hand wool, held her hands after delivering her first child, changed diapers at 3 am so Peeta and her could sleep a couple more hours, taught her children how to say please and thank you, and still made her hot chocolate every rainy day without even having to ask." I cried. So much. For only 1,801 words. A nice look at mama!Effie and darling Katniss.

that which resembles a grave (but isn't) by ifonlyiwasawriter ---> "Haymitch finds Katniss covered in dirt in his backyard; there is an explanation for this, but not one that either of them likes." Haymitch and Katniss, lovely very traumatized father and very traumatized daughter bonding.

Any way I love Haymitch and Effie goodnight !

[hiem3]

smooth operator

18+

warning~ alc0h0l, bar, 3ating out, d0m seokmin, use the word baby, darling, and honey.

summary~ you’re the owner of a bar in the 20’s and it’s illegal to sell/drink alcohol. as an owner you have priorities until, a man comes in with a devilish smile and your whole mindset changes.

author side note: oml i had so much fun writing this! i literally had this plot in mind when i was listening to smooth operator and i was listening to light a flame as well lol~ i hope you guys like this story as much as you liked ceo jeonghan! more stories to come!

It was late at night and you were opening your secret bar. It was the 20’s and booze was illegal so you had to hide your bar from the outside world. only the elites are allowed inside your bar; business men, ceos, wallstreet guys,

and everyone else expect cops. if cops came in you would be gone, your whole business would be over. your bar was hiding underneath a book store named semicolon however your bar was named light a flame after your favorite song.

your bar was boomin and business was going good. however tonight’s business is going especially well “free shots for eveyone!” said a business man “my business is good and so are these drinks woo!” he abruptly sits back down into his seat. you smile and giggle of course because it’s a good atmosphere people are laughing and having fun. you pour the shots and hand it to everyone. everyone says 1..2..3 go! and they all take the shot together expect you of course. Jazz was blaring loud and suddenly you smell smoke. “hey you! can’t you see the no smoke sign?” you point at the sign.

the man was devilishly handsome, tall nose, nice smile, broad shoulder, and whew that build. you get kind of embarrassed once you realize all of this, he puts his lighter and cigarette box away “i’m sorry mrs. 1st time” he said smiling. you blush a little bit and cough “well i guess that’ll be fine but don’t you do that again mr.” “it’s mr. lee but just call me seokmin” he said with a small smile “right..i don’t want no cops showing up here askin why is there smoke coming out of a library shop”. “no no i understand mrs?” he asked his eyes were begging with an answer “mrs. y/l, but you can call me y/n”. “y/n tell me why a book store?” he asked sipping his whiskey “actually this was my father book store but i renovated it to be a bar” you say proudly as you’re cleaning glasses. “you know..alcohol is illegal right?” he says as he’s sipping whiskey. you froze is he a cop? a spy? fbi? he chuckles and you stop being tense. you chuckle as well “my, well then have me arrested” seokmin voice lowers “you know your laugh is cute”. your ears blush “why thank you”

a man drunkly calls for your name “y/-n g..et ov..er he-re!” you smile at seokmin “duty calls” for the rest of the night you attended to everyone and haven’t spoken to seokmin even though he’s been staring at you the entire time. by the night ends there was only him at the bar “it’s 1:00 am in the morning, shouldn’t you be heading home?” you say cleaning up the bar. “yes well, i wanted to have you all to myself before i leave” he responded grabbing your broom away and placing his hand on your waist. you blush, flustered by the way he’s staring into your eyes. “i’ve been observing you seeing how you run this place, it made me curious about you, what more secrets are you hiding?” he says leaning over you “my well.. you know you’re quite forward” you chuckle nervously. he smiles back “i’m only like that when i want something..and you know…i always get. what i want.” it’s as if he’s telling you to fuck him in your bar but you stop yourself and create distance. “well seokmin you’ll have to wait for it” you say dusting yourself and fixing your hair nervously “did i also mention i am also quite patient” he says smiling “well i bid you a good night my darling”. seokmin exists your door and leaves for the night. for the rest of that week you continue thinking about him, wondering when is he going to come back? is what he says true?

every since you met seokmin you’re always looking at the customer who enters the door hoping it was him then on Friday you hear a similar voice. oh that might be him you thought to yourself and it was, however he brought his friends. a man with blonde hair asks for 2 bourbon and 1 scotch. you look over at the table where seokmin was sitting and asked “is it for them?” you point. “ah yes you see my friend over there he was saying how this bar was amazing and the owner hospitality was like no other” he responded “ah thank you, could i ask what your name is? i like to remember my customers” you say smiling. “you can call me seungkwan”. you guys shake hands and you hand him his 2 bourbons and 1 scotch.

as the night goes on, it got chaotic to the point where you didn’t even check on seokmin because you were too busy with customers.

again, when you closed seokmin was the only one left. “don’t you have somewhere to be?” you laugh “actually yes. here with you” he responded smiling as he sips his scotch. “what happened to your other friends?” you ask “they got too drunk and had to leave, they wanted me to come with them but..i wanted to stay here” he says, you notice there was a little bit of blush on your ears which made you blush a little bit. “oh well that’s too bad” you say “you know..you might make me jealous by asking about them” he says wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from the back.

“seokmin..i don’t do that one night stand type of stuff” you say“me too..what made you think that i did?” he asks having a concern look on his face. “well i- you know what i’m sorry i shouldn’t have assumed” he turns you around to face him “you should know that i don’t intend to do this with just anyone..” your head starts spinning, your mind is telling you know but your body is telling you go. you hop on him, his arms around your legs to hold you up “is this a yes my love?” he says, you nod. he smiles and says “i’m gonna need you to tell me with your words” you sigh and whisper into his ear “please..fuck me”.

he throws you over his shoulder and puts you down on the bar counter “that’s all i needed, wasn’t that not so hard?” he grins. he starts kissing you, to your neck, chest, thighs, and reaches to your cunt. he spreads your thighs apart and looks up. “i want you to remember every. single. thing. i’m gonna do to you. i want to engrave it into your mind”. he starts licking your clit, twirling around while grabbing your tits. you never felt this way before and you’ve never been fucked inside your own bar. “m-mm seokmin!” you yell “honey, you’re gonna have to lower down your voice, you don’t want the cops to hear you” he smiles. fuck that cocky little devil. he continues eating you out, putting his fingers in and focusing on your clit. it wasn’t enough, you needed bigger. the way he’s eating you and the view you were at, his little cute mole and his nose. you grab his hair and start riding on his nose “mm-m seokmin! i’m close!” you groan. you ride out your orgasm and you cum all over his face, white paint is all over his face. “oh wow..you’re so fucking hot” he licks his fingers and leans over you “put your ass up darling”.

you go down from the bar counter and lean your body on top of the counter. the cool surface on the table feels nice on your tits. “fuck, i can’t hold it in longer..” he puts the tip in and you can already tell it’s big. you’ve had sex with other guys before but you never had this big. he puts it all in and groans “uh-h so warm..” you moan “hm ple-ase move..” something in him lights up. you can tell he got even harder when you said that, he starts grabbing your ass and hitting you deep. your whole core is shaking it feels too good to be true. “you like that huh? you like it when i fuck you like this? hm?” he says grabbing you face and leaning over your body fucking you. “hm-m ye-s” you mumbled. “sorry you’re gonna have to say that louder darling, or is my cock that good that you can’t say anything?” he says grinning. you start uncontrollably moving on his cock. “f-uck!” you moan. “i’m close darling” he says. he starts circling your clit and pumping you even harder, hitting your stomach. “i’m cu-mmingg!” you yell gripping on the edge of the counter, rolling your eyes back and tears dripping down your face. “me too” he says. he grabs your face and you guys start kissing passionately. you came and so did he, “fuck baby that was so good”. your legs gives out “oh shi-“ he quickly grabs you and puts you on top of the counter. you can’t even move your legs “fuck my back is so sore” you hiss and hit him “don’t be fucking me from the behind again!” he giggles and says “i don’t know you seem to like it, but hey if you say so” putting his hands up as if he’s guilty.

you guys both laugh and it’s already 2:00 am, “oh no i gotta head back to work, my break is over..” seokmin says “right now? really? wait- what do you even do?”. he puts on his pants, his jacket, and grabs something from his left pocket as he’s making his way through the door “i’m a cop” he says grinning showing you his badge “bye honey~ see you next time” he says. your jaw dropped opened. you can’t believe you had sex and with a cop!?

[angelicribbons]

Alastor with a fem baby regressor

Sorry for the late response, I slept a bit later today :) (I hope you mean headcanons, I just realized you didn’t specify!)

CG! Alastor with a fem baby regressor <3

One (yes, one, he has more) of Alastor’s favorite things to do with you is dress up. Every morning, he gently wakes you up by kissing your head and get down on his knees to put you in old-timey maroon dresses. (Unless you’d prefer another color, which he’d gladly oblige and probably get at least 6 more dresses in that color for you)

He loves to feed you. Setting you down on his lap and softly tipping the bottle into your mouth. Alastor very much appreciates the domestic side of things, so having a little one without going through the hassle of having a partner or making one with them, is a very nice change of pace.

Barely any TV. If you really insist, he’ll let you watch some. But on the old TV, and none of Vox’s stuff. That’ll rot your brain. Spoiled, but in a different way. You have Alastor’s almost constant attention. “Oh, there’s a leak? One moment, my little love needs to finish her bottle.” Much to..most of the hotel’s slight annoyance. He refuses leave you alone. “Leave my little one home? Oh, what nonsense! If I can take her with me, why should I risk her discomfort?” When he has a broadcast to do, he’ll give you a pacifier and rock you in his arms as he goes on about whatever. Softly patting your head in between his music breaks.

On his strolls, he props you up with blankets and pillows in your stroller and your favorite stuffy if you have one. If not, he just brings a couple. He loves showing you off to the other residents in cannibal town. “Isn’t she just a doll? My lovely fawn.” The only other person who’s held you is Auntie Rosie. He doesn’t trust anyone else to do it right.

If you occasionally cause mischief, he likes to watch from the shadows and chuckle unless it becomes a real problem. Then he morphs in front of you and gets down to your level to talk to you. “Dearie, there’s a reason Papa and the others told you not to touch that. It could get you very hurt, Cher. Come on, let’s go read a story to take your mind off this, alright? Papa got you some new books.”

Bed time stories! Always. And if no books seem appealing to you, he’ll turn on the radio and play a story on there. (I feel like he’d play ‘The pirate of New Orleans’, it should be on YouTube, that’s where i watched it)

On the subject of radios, he loves to play you music! (For specifics, I’d say ‘Let’s Misbehave’ by Cole Porter and Irving Aaronson Commanders, and ‘The Birth of the Blues’ by Paul Whiteman and his orchestra, Charles Gaylord, Austin Skin Young, and Jack Fulton) He’ll sing along and loves if you try to sing or hum with him. “Yes, very good, my lovely! Oh you sound just wonderful!”

While he would rather not have anyone touch him, you are his exception. You wanna climb on his shoulder and play with his hair? Absolutely, as long as you don’t fall! You wanna lay down and play with his tail? Of course, just don’t tug too hard! You wanna cling to him like your life depends on it? Why not?

Baby babbles are the cutest thing to Alastor! “Ah, really? Hmm! How interesting! Won’t you go on, my dear?” He actually listens intently, curious if he can hear anything resembling a certain word and base his response off of that.

He never thought he’d be the best with kids, but he’ll certainly try for his little sweetheart. He finds almost everything you do incredibly charming and will not take anyone saying otherwise seriously even for a moment. “Oh, please! She’s just a little thing, you can’t blame her for anything. Especially not with her darling little antics!”

I hope you liked this!!! This warmed my heart because Alastor is my primary cg whenever I’m small <3

[bakedbakermom]

Takeout Interruptus (read on ao3) fluff and humor // T // 1k words tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

A makeout session is interrupted by an over-enthusiastic delivery boy who just can't take a hint. (Note: "OK Chinese Restaurant" is a real place in the SF Bay Area, so I hope you will forgive me for the name. I always wanted to open another place across the street called "Good Chinese Restaurant.")

Scully’s tongue thrusts hot and wet into his mouth, her hands tangled in his hair. She gasps as his fingers slip under the hem of her shirt to begin a teasing journey up the sweet plains of her stomach, inching higher and higher... when a loud knock sounds at Mulder’s door. “Sorry,” he murmurs against her lips. “Forgot I ordered food.”

She whines when he pulls away, though her stomach is rumbling. “Hurry back, G-Man.”

He smiles over his shoulder as he grabs his wallet and opens the door, revealing a gangly teenager with bright red hair, a smattering of acne, and an anemic little caterpillar of a mustache valiantly attempting to crown his upper lip. In his hands are two bulging bags of takeout, their stylized font proudly proclaiming them the product of Mr. Fung’s OK Chinese Restaurant (Ask About Two-for-One Tuesday Special!).

“Hey, Zack, how’s it going?”

“Good, Mr. Mulder, thanks. That’ll be $27.50.” He holds the bags up for emphasis and Mulder thumbs through his wallet. “Hey, so, you were right about that book you told me about, the one with the yetis? Susie thought it was really cool and now I think maybe she thinks I might be really cool and so I was just wondering if you had any, like, recommendations for more? Because, like, I’m not great with girls, and she’s so pretty and so smart and she smells, like, so good and I just don’t want to blow it, like—“

Mulder pulls out a few worn bills with an unnecessary flourish, waving them right under the boy’s nose, and Zack’s motor mouth dies abruptly. “Next time, okay? Keep the change.”

Oblivious, the young man bumbles on. “Come on, man, it’s just that I’m, like, really nervous? I’m supposed to meet up with her after my shift tonight and she was like, ‘it’s no big deal’ but, like, it’s a super big deal and you’re always so, like, suave and stuff I just thought maybe—”

“Zack,” Mulder says with emphasis, though not without kindness. “I’m a little busy tonight.”

The boy peers around his shoulder into the living room. “Oh hey, Ms. Scully.” She smiles indulgently and wiggles her fingers at him in a small wave. “You guys got some cool new case going on? Oh is it gross? Susie loves when I talk about the gross ones, that Flukeman thing had her fascinated for days so maybe you could just, like, give me a few details and I could like—”

He is inching closer to the door and Mulder sticks a hand out to grab the frame, his forearm forming a barricade before the boy can cross the threshold. “Not exactly, Zack.” Scully can’t see his face, but she can hear in his voice the wide eyes, the raised brows, the way his mouth presses into a thin line as he silently begs the boy to take the damn hint (and the money) and go.

Zack peeks around him again, slower this time, and his eyes widen along with his grin. His gaze flicks back and forth as he takes in Scully’s pinked cheeks, Mulder’s disheveled hair, the coffee table with a pair of near-empty wine glasses and no casefiles in sight. “Oh man! Oh, oh wow. Is this—? Are you—? Oh man!” He gives Mulder a bony but encouraging punch on the shoulder, thumping him in the gut with the takeout bag in the process. “Yeah, sorry, yeah, no, you got it, Mr. Mulder, I’m outta here, say no more, I’ll just, yeah, okay uh—”

He bolts all of three steps before realizing he forgot something, and nearly drops it all as he tries to hand Mulder both bags and take the money at the same time, with only two knobby arms to handle the job. One more glance into the living room, his smile so big it looks painful and shows off an impressively shiny array of orthodontics. “Yeah, okay, bye guys, have a good night, I mean, uh, I’ll just—”

“Bye, Zack.”

“Right, yeah, uh, bye!” He nearly trips over his own oversized feet as he sprints down the hall, shoes squeaking all the way. Rolling his eyes, Mulder pushes the door shut—but not before they hear him whispering excitedly to himself, “Wait ‘til I tell Susie about this!” His voice cracks on the last word.

“Scully?” Mulder asks as he turns back to her. “Do you ever get the feeling that everyone in the world was just waiting for us to get together, and we were too dumb to see it?”

She rises from the couch and takes the bags, then pushes up on her toes to press her mouth fleetingly to his. “Frequently. I’m pretty sure Skinner has Barbie dolls of us and he makes them kiss when he thinks no one is watching.”

He follows her into the kitchen, grabbing plates from the shelves she can’t reach while she rummages through the drawers for clean utensils. When she turns to face him, she finds him already close enough to touch, close enough that his body heat washes over her in a wave that sends tingles from her scalp to her toes. He grabs the counter on either side of her waist, trapping her between the firm brackets of his arms. “Think that kid is gonna get lucky tonight?”

Scully smiles, hooking her fingers through his belt loops and pulling until his hips are flush with hers. She threads her hands into his hair and pulls his face down close. “The more pressing question is,” she whispers, her breath ghosting over his lips, “are you going to get lucky tonight?”

“Would it improve my chances if I started talking about yetis?”

She reaches around, squeezes his ass with both hands, and he yelps as he bucks against her. “Let’s not risk it,” she smirks into his mouth, and kisses him like she wants to swallow him whole.

The takeout goes cold on the counter, but warms up nicely for a midnight snack.

I could not get this idea out of my head. At first I wanted to make it a scene in a larger piece of smut, but ultimately decided it was too funny and needed to be shared on its own. So. Here you go. I do not know why all my fics lately are food-related.

[extasiswings]

hold onto me

More 6x10/6B spec fic because I am going Through It.

Once upon a time, Christopher was afraid of storms. It was one of those things Eddie hadn’t known about his own kid, that he learned when Christopher climbed into bed with him in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm a few months after his discharge from the army and maybe a week after Shannon left them. He hadn’t been sleeping himself—the rolling thunder reminded him too much of gunfire—so he had been awake when Christopher curled in next to him and pulled the blankets over his head.

It’s too loud, Christopher had said when Eddie asked what was wrong, and Eddie certainly hadn’t been able to argue with that.

Chris grew out of it. His fear of storms. Nowadays, thunder and lightning are cool, and he’s learned to enjoy the little things, like sitting under a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and reading a good book while rain batters against the windows of the house. Or a rainbow peeking through the clouds after a long, dreary spat.

Eddie wonders if that’ll change tonight. As soon as he walks through the door and tells his son that a storm put Buck in the hospital.

That Buck might not wake up.

That Eddie couldn’t save him.

He doesn’t want to say the words. In fact, he’s been standing in front of his own front door for at least ten minutes, unable to make himself take the last step of fitting his key in the lock and going inside.

He can’t. Because the second he opens the door, that’s it, it’s real, there’s no going back. And of course, it’s already real—Eddie saw it happen, he watched from the ground, entirely helpless to do anything as Buck was blown off the ladder by a lightning strike that left behind the lingering scent of ozone. He watched Buck hang there for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes. He felt Buck’s lack of pulse, performed CPR himself because the thought of letting someone else take over was unfathomable.

He begged Buck to open his eyes. But Buck hadn’t.

So, yes. Eddie knows it’s real. Technically. But it’s also the nightmare scenario. It’s not supposed to actually happen.

Eddie’s not supposed to have to have this conversation again. He’s not supposed to have to figure out how to tell his son that Buck is—

He cuts off the thought. Buck’s not dead. He’s not. It’s not the same.

Except, logic unhelpfully offers, this is almost worse, isn’t it?

Death is final. Shannon died. Telling Christopher had been one of the hardest things Eddie had ever had to do, but at least it was final. This is the furthest thing from certainty.

Buck could never wake up. Buck could wake up and be fine. Or Buck could wake up completely changed. He could wake up not even knowing them. He could wake up, but need constant care for the rest of his life. It feels like there are infinite possibilities, but hope is a fickle mistress and Eddie has learned not to rely on it.  Possibilities are both a gift and a curse.

A gift because they mean he might not actually have to break his son’s heart tonight. A curse because if that break just ends up delayed, it’ll hurt so much worse.

God, he can’t do this. Not again.

It’s no surprise that Eddie’s mind takes him back to the aftermath of the shooting.  When Buck came to see him in the hospital and suggested that maybe it would have been better for Christopher if he had been the one to get shot instead of Eddie.  Eddie hadn’t agreed with the sentiment then, and he certainly doesn’t agree with it now.

This is not better.  There is nothing about this situation that is better.  

But Eddie understands the sentiment more than ever now.  Because he would trade places with Buck in an instant as long as it meant Buck and Christopher would be okay.  

And they would be.  Eventually.  As long as they had each other, Eddie knows they could be okay without him.

He’s let Christopher down so many times, failed him in so many ways.  Buck, though—Eddie doesn’t think Buck understands that he’s Christopher’s hero.  Hell, he’s Eddie’s hero too.  How many times has Buck saved them both?

Christopher knows what it’s like to lose Eddie.  Just like he knew what it was like to lose Shannon.  He doesn’t know what it’s like to lose Buck.  And maybe it was naive of Eddie to think that he would never have to, but as much as risk is an inherent part of their jobs, he really did think—

You act like you’re expendable, but you’re wrong.

Buck has always been Buck’s own worst enemy, the biggest risk to his safety.  But Eddie had stopped that, hadn’t he?  Hadn’t he made Buck see that he couldn’t be reckless with himself?  Hadn’t he given Buck a reason to want to stay? To live?  To be with—

Lightning.  Really?  Who the hell gets struck by lightning?  What kind of freak accident is that?

Buck would know.  With all the random facts he keeps locked up in his head, he probably knows exactly how likely it is for someone to be the victim of a lightning strike.

Knew.

Knows.

All at once, Eddie’s no longer exhausted and subdued—he’s angry.  Angry in a way that he hasn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever.

“You son of a bitch,” he whispers, and it could be to God, the universe, maybe even a little to Buck himself.  Because what is it going to take?  How much loss can one person be expected to bear?  How much grief?  

He did the work.  He went to therapy.  He got all whole and healed and he was working on the rest, okay?  Working on the last bits he needed to work on to be ready, to stop being so afraid.

He thought he had time.  He was supposed to have more time.

Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, so if you love her, tell her.

A memory whispers in the back of Eddie’s mind, and a bitter laugh bubbles up in his throat, burning like acid.  Yeah, okay, so maybe he’s a hypocrite, sue him.  But whoever is running the show from the great beyond has a sick fucking sense of humor.  

Eddie scrubs his hands over his face and presses his forehead against the door.  

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and his heart skips a beat—he nearly fumbles the phone pulling it out to check the message.  Maybe Buck is—

But no.  It’s just Chim letting him know that Maddie convinced the night nurse to let her stay with Buck, but regular visiting hours start in the morning.

Clearly, the universe isn’t interested in doing Eddie any favors.

Which brings him back to the reason he’s still standing in the hall.

How is he supposed to tell Christopher?

Well.

He just has to do it, doesn’t he?  There isn’t another answer.  There’s no magical solution.

Just the truth.  

Taking a steadying breath, Eddie brings his keys up, turns the lock, and opens the door.  Crosses the rubicon.

Carla steps out of the kitchen, a smile on her lips that drops off the instant she sees his face.

“What’s wrong?”  She asks.  “What happened?”

Eddie shakes his head.  He can’t—he can only say it so many times.

“Is he asleep?”

“Yes.”

He closes his eyes.  Somehow that’s even worse.

“I think I have to wake him up.”  

“Eddie—”  Carla’s face has taken on a greyish tinge, but her voice is steady when she adds—  “I can stay.  If there’s somewhere else you need to be.”

For the briefest moment, Eddie wonders what would happen if he went back to the hospital now.  If he showed up at Buck’s room and cracked himself open, poured out the whole truth and begged Maddie—a woman he barely knows—to let him be the one to stay.  

He could do it.  Run away from this conversation that he doesn’t know how to have with Christopher and let Carla deliver the news and pick up the pieces.  It would be one of the most selfish things he’d ever done, but he could.  He could do it.  

But no, no, he really couldn’t.  This is his job and only his.  Just like how when their positions had been reversed, it had been Buck’s job.  It couldn’t be anyone else’s.  

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” Eddie replies, sounding steadier than he feels.  And with one more breath for strength, he steps into Christopher’s room.

It’s dark, quiet.  Eddie doesn’t turn on the main light—instead, he waits until he gets to the bed and sits on the edge of it before flicking on a lamp.  

Christopher doesn’t stir then, or when Eddie runs a gentle hand over his curls.  His breathing is deep and even and he looks so much younger than he is in sleep, without his glasses.  

Eddie’s eyes burn, a lump forming in his throat.

He can’t—

He has to.

“Christopher,” he rasps, shaking his shoulder lightly.  

Chris wrinkles his nose and slowly blinks his eyes open, squinting in the dim light through the haze of sleep.

“Dad?”

“Hey, kid.”  His voice cracks.  And his son changes in an instant, his focus sharpening, every line of him going tense and too still.  

“What happened to Buck?”  Christopher asks, seeing right into the heart of it.

“There was an accident.  He’s in the hospital.”

To his surprise, Chris laughs—a little shaky and tense, but still a laugh.  “Well that’s just—he’s fine though, right?  I mean, he’s been in the hospital before.  He’s always fine.”

There’s a pause that stretches a little too long when Eddie can’t find the words to respond.  And Christopher is the one to break it, his tone abruptly questioning, sharp, a little desperate.

“Right?  Dad?  He’s fine?”

And god, Eddie doesn’t think he has ever been in this kind of pain.  He would give anything, anything to make it go away.  For both of them.

“I don’t know,” Eddie admits, because he can’t lie, Christopher wouldn’t forgive him if he lied.  “It might be a while before we know anything.  I wish I could say more than that, I wish I could promise you that he’ll wake up tomorrow and be just like he always is, but I don’t know.”

And I don’t want to lie to you.

Christopher stares at the wall for a moment.  His lip quivers before he pulls it between his teeth.  But when he looks back to Eddie, his eyes are dry.  Strong.  Resolved.  

“He will be.  You’ll see.  It’s Buck.”

And of the two of them, Eddie’s the one who feels like crying.

“Yeah.  Yeah—it’s Buck.”

He just wishes he could convince himself that matters as much as Christopher believes it does.    

[bnhaobservation]

Changing society even MORE in BNHA for a real PLUS ULTRA

So in my past post “Changing society in BNHA” I theorized that the change watching Midoriya fight was meant to bring in the society, was making it aware they should help their Heroes instead than just watching them. So far it still seems an idea that holds.

We see that the common folks as well as the U.A. first grades are all willing to help Heroes and are looking at the future optimistically and pro-active. They don’t want anymore just to be coddled by Heroes but helps them bringing them food, helping them to rebuild things.

But I wonder if this is really how it’s meant to end.

Midoriya wanted to stop the circle of hate, but until outcasts live, the circle of hate will never be broken.

Until people can’t accept everyone isn’t born equal and that’s fine, there will be another Heteromorph that gets abused and will become another Spinner, there will be another kid whose father won’t accept he like Heroes and that’ll be abused until he’ll snap and then someone else will take advantage of him and he’ll become Shigaraki Tomura, there’ll be another kid with parents that rejects and try to suppress his quirk and that will become Toga Himiko, there’ll be another kid ignored and neglected by his parents who’ll come to think they don’t want him who will become Dabi, there will be a nice man who, due to an incident, will become a homeless unable to find work until he’ll resort to use his Quirk to steal who’ll become Twice, there will be someone who’ll think Heroes just gain too much money while ignoring those who’re poor who’ll become Mr. Compress and so on.

And it was made clear that they can’t stop all this because they don’t really have that many Heroes and the refusal to stop and turn sides of Shuuichi, Tomura, Himiko, Touya, Jin and Atsuhiro in the story proves that when people are pushed too far it’s hard to save them, it might as well be too late, they’re just too disillusioned, I mean, even Himiko who regretted hurting Ochako and was touched by her words in the end chose death over living in the world in which Heroes would win because she knew that world wasn’t for her and Touya’s family reached out for him too late when his condition deteriorated too much, as for Hawks’ offer of helping Jin it came too late and at the price of abandoning the people who had been faster to help and welcome Jin.

Heroes were too late, they let things deteriorate too much, beyond the breaking point.

And they’ll continue deteriorating because Heroes more often than not step in solely when the problem is too big, when a person has turned to crime as the answer because they believes all the other ways had been cut from them (we’ll discuss in another post if this is true or not, for the sake of this post just let’s leave it as ‘they believed there was no other way’ and end it here).

Society has no plan to correct its shortcoming, Shuuichi’s book about Shigaraki Tomura is going to work like the old Destro’s book, it’s going to encourage people who’re oppressed by society to destroy it because there’s no way out. They might have kept Shuuichi alive but they didn’t save him. Tomura was his friend, now Shuuichi is alone, angry and desperate, plagued by guilt because he didn’t step in and saved his friend. It’s not just he’ll be jailed, it’s he still thinks this society wouldn’t accept him and for him there’s no way out to live if not destroying it.

So now what?

We’ll wait for the new Re-Shigaraki and Re-Re-Destro?

Well, there’s still a thing that Midoriya and Co. can do.

Chap. 428 brings up how Uraraka wants to suppress her feelings of pain for failing to save Himiko but can’t, mirroring how Himiko just couldn’t suppress her own feelings. The difference will be in how she’ll have her friends (or just Midoriya) supporting her. It also brings up how Midoriya, despite being considered a Hero for murdering Shigaraki actually feels bad for doing it. Fundamentally he hears a boy telling him that he inspired him by murdering the person Midoriya wanted to save, Shuuichi’s friend, by becoming an unwilling murderer. Midoriya feels bad but, same as Uraraka, he’s bottling it up inside himself.

People had been asking for the permission to interview class A. Aizawa refused.

However if it’ll be Midoriya and Uraraka who’ll take part to an interview and won’t just say the usual ‘oh, Villains need to fear Heroes, now we’re here, we’ll crush them’ but will talk about how Tenko and Himiko wouldn’t have turned into Villains if someone had helped them first. Shouji could help explaining how hard Heteromorph life still is outside the city, Shouto could explain the importance he had for him that Midoriya reached out for him to help him change his mindsetting and so on.

If we want to involve the adults, Hawks too could give an extra talk of how Jin was a good person and if they had helped him FIRST he wouldn't have turned into a Villain, Aizawa and Hizashi could talk of who previously was Kurogiri and how a side of him never died even if he was turned into a Nomu and All Might and Gran Torino might join to explain how they regretted they failed to protect Shimura's family.

Because really, it’s easy to criticize Tomura once he turned into a Villain, once he became a terrible person… but originally he was just a little kid who wanted to become a Hero and if people had helped him he wouldn’t have turned into a Villain and the point of understanding the root of this isn’t just to turn Tomura's story into a ‘sob story’ and feel bad for him, for the rest of the league, to give them a pass, it’s to stop the same mistakes from repeating. If society doesn’t learn anything from the tragedy of Shigaraki Tomura, that tragedy will repeat. Again, and again, and again.

So I wonder if this will be the next step in BNHA.

Class A using the League’s tragedies not to save the League’s members, it’s too late for that, Tomura, Himiko and Jin are dead, Touya is going to die too and Shuuichi’s life is likely going to be shortened by how he has more than one Quirk, saving the League can’t be anymore done… but others can be saved… if society learns from the League’s tragedies and help people not to become the next League, they will be saved and society will become the horde of ‘heroes’ the world need.

After all one didn’t need to be a Hero to save the League’s members BEFORE they become Villains, it was enough they were given a little of human warmth and care, the story proves it over and over that this is enough to save people.

But well, again this is just food for thoughts, we still have two chapters to see where BNHA is heading, if mystery guy will need to be saved by a titular Hero or if a common folk will be inspired by Heroes to extend a helping hand and SAVE HIM before he’ll turn into a Villain…. Or better, save him from turning into a Villain. For now we can only wait and see.