#thanks for anyone who may have bothered to take the time to read this all

[fallahifag]

just cleared out over 1700 asks from my inbox and i just want to say thank you to anyone who has ever sent me a nice or supportive message that i could not respond to. i have read them all and appreciate them more than anything. from here on forward, i'd like to focus this blog more on sharing resources to help palestinians- which is why i have not been answering any asks that are not related to donation campaigns.

alongside the sweet messages, i have been getting a ton of hate messages that promote weird accounts that were created to exclusively harass me and other palestinians on tumblr, accusing us of things that are extremely untrue and even questioning our backgrounds. despite not letting this hate personally impact me, i understand that it may have taken a great toll on my other palestinian friends who have been working tirelessly for the palestinian cause. i luckily did not have access to my phone when most of the conspiring against us took place, meaning i did not see the worst of it - but it still bothers me that this is the type of attention we are getting when the only attention we want is attention to help those suffering in palestine.

we have said this a million times and in a million different ways. we are real people. our families are being impacted. our friends are being killed. our lives are being changed. all we want is justice. you don't deserve a pat on the back for simply reblogging one of our posts, or asking us personal questions irrelated to the subject we are desperately trying to bring focus on. you need to be doing more. you COULD be doing more. donate, share, interact with gazans and palestinians in non-parasocial ways.

it is not hard. if you can't decide on a specific campaign to place your donation, click this link for a spotlight fundraiser you can support. regularly check palestinian sources and blogs on here for more updates on fundraisers you can support. can't donate? sharing and interacting with these posts goes a long way. we need attention. attention will bring forth action. do not undermine your privilege and power. you can always be doing more.

lastly, i would like to remind you all that i am planning to start my hunger strike in a couple of days. this hunger strike is meant to encourage more and more people to donate to help save my friend hani's family. if you have an extra dollar, please consider donating to hani's campaign. and if you cannot donate, share his fundraiser.

throughout my hunger strike (and moving forward), my blog will mostly focus on bringing attention to fundraisers that you can support, as well as news and updates from gaza and the west bank. it has been over 225 days of relentless genocide in gaza and torture in the west bank. we are coming up on a full year. none of us should be able to rest in these conditions. no more playing games. take us seriously and do more.

[ryker-writes]

Hiiiii thanks for making my day your the best, I give you so many hug (or high fives if you don't want hugs!) If I may ask can you write a broken relationships with malleus pretty please with a cheery on top? ( Also can I be lizard anon please! 🦎)

I would gladly accept any and all hugs! And I will devour that cherry while I write this-

Malleus I feel would be one of the ones that actually would be a good sibling so it's difficult to think about how a broken sibling relationship with him would be lol

Note: I haven't read any of Chapter 7 yet

Request Rules and Masterlists

Broken Sibling relationships

Malleus as a sibling (Broken relationship)

To say that you and Malleus were different would've been an understatement.

Even as kids, you two were very different. He was always treated as the best and the golden child, seen with much love, and he was naturally talented at just about anything. He had no problems with magic, no threats, and no flaws. He was the perfect heir for the throne of Briar Valley

And you? You were his younger sibling.

Compared to Malleus, you were never anyone's priority

Of course, you had servants and knights helping you just like him, but anything Malleus needed always took priority

Your help could be taken away at any moment for the sake of Malleus getting help

In the beginning, it didn't bother you as much because you and Malleus were together a lot of the time! He would spend a lot of time with you, and the two of you had so much fun together

You two would spend hours together in the library, and Malleus would read to you books on magic and history, but he got really passionate when he read about gargoyles. The two of you even ran around the castle once, trying to identify each gargoyle, both of your laughter echoing through the halls for guards and servants to hear

But as the years went by, things changed. Malleus had to become more of the heir he's meant to be. He spent most of his time alone or surrounded by guards

You started to get used to being in Malleus' shadow and not taking priority. Your brother had helped you feel less alone and more equal in the past, but he was too busy for you now

everything only got worse once you two had gone to Night Raven College

Malleus was praised from the moment he got there of course. He was recognized as one of the greatest and best of everyone there. He even had knights in training with him here, and a personal greeting from the headmage. You however...

"Who are you?"

You weren't even recognized or known. Not to the headmage, not to anyone. Why would you be? You aren't the heir of Briar Valley. You aren't the great wizard that Malleus is. And you aren't nearly as important.

Even after explaining who you were, people would just go "Oh." and ask about Malleus

To them, you might as well not even have a name. You were barely noticed. Barely recognized. And even when you were, you were simply known as Malleus' sibling. Nothing more.

And to top it all off: You weren't even invited to things

If people couldn't remember to invite Malleus, there's no way they remembered you. They probably didn't even know you existed. You're just in the background

You saw all the games he played in, all the praise he got, heck one of his knights practically worshiped the ground he walked on, but not when it came to you

People avoided him, they didn't notice or ignored you

Eventually, your birthday came around, and of course, no one noticed. Malleus didn't even see you at all, and didn't say anything

Your own brother didn't remember your birthday...

Are you cursed or something? Cursed to never be seen? Cursed to forever live a life that no one will notice? It's so cruel...

It's not like you wanted anything grand. You didn't need some big fancy party for your birthday

You just wanted to be acknowledged. For one day.

But compared to Malleus, you might as well be insignificant. He shone too brightly for anyone to even see you, hidden in his shadow

Even on a day that should be dedicated to you, he was the one being praised and followed around. He was the one everyone adored. Malleus, the prince of Briar Valley...

You were insignificant, unimportant, ignored

At this point, you can't even help but wonder if even Malleus himself forgot about you completely

you had assumed that was the case

that is, until you opened the your door the next morning. Sitting outside was a neatly wrapped gift box, and inside, a small gargoyle statue

[toruvi]

It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.

You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.

But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.

However, your boyfriend definitely notices.

Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.

"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"

You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.

"Lunch. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."

He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.

"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."

With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.

When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.

And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.

He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.

You really love that about him.

When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.

"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."

"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.

"Mhm," is all he says.

You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.

Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.

Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.

You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.

"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.

"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.

Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.

"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"

"It was funny to me! You're always funny."

"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."

"Must be why you're dating me, right?"

His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"

Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."

"You could be more specific."

"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.

You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."

"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.

[bg-brainrot]

To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick. 

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities. 

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally. 

Alone. 

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence. 

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry. 

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hi may i please request swerve trying to be the human liason on the lost light's wimgmech untill they jump grab his shoulders do a pullup and smooch him.

Thank you! Hope your flights arent horrifically delayed.

Thank you for the request, and sorry for how long it took to finally get it out lol! Coincidentally my flights ended up being okay despite the hell I went through to get onto the planes.

I put a lot of thought into this request, and I wasn't entirely sure what you meant with Swerve being the reader's wingmech, so I went down this route. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it's on the shorter side. Thanks again! :D

Wingmech

Pairing: IDW Swerve x Human Liason Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: After noticing you are lost in love with an anonymous mech, Swerve decides to help you prepare for going after the secret crush you have.

  Swerve has been watching you for a while now.

  It’s not uncommon for the Lost Light’s crew to focus on you. You are, after all, the only human aboard the Cybertronian exploration ship. Though you’ve been here for months, no bot can help but find you fascinating. And Swerve? Well…he’d never admit it to anyone, but his interest in you goes well beyond mere fascination. Yes, you're small, smaller than even him. Yes, you're soft, and squishy, and adorable, and sometimes he really wants to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you right on the lips after confessing his love-

  Okay. So maybe he has a bit of a crush on you. But that’s all it is! A crush that compels him to  keep tabs on where you go and what you do. He’s learned about you from the various conversations he’s listened to during busy nights. He knows you adore dogs and melt at the sight of cats (What are dogs? What are cats? Like hell he knows. He isn’t particularly caught up on his Earth knowledge). He knows you like to turn in early and wake up late. He knows you aren’t exactly a party person, and sometimes being surrounded by robots three times your size is incredibly overwhelming. And following that little tidbit, he understands you don’t like coming to his bar.

  So why are you here now?

  He’s watching you while he makes drinks. Your little form is tucked away in a corner at one of the smaller tables reserved for minicons, hunched over a notebook, eyes focused on the pages of written material he can’t read. Even when he zooms his optics in, your writing is far too small for him to coherently pick up on from this distance. With one hand propped against your cheek and the other idly tapping a pen against your head, you look far too troubled for someone who’s currently spending time in a place where all troubles are drunken away. It makes him curious and concerned. Why would you, someone who hates large crowds and loud environments, be writing in such a place?

  He needs to get to the bottom of it.

  Now, he knows what someone might say about this: “Swerve, it's none of your business. Swerve, they clearly don’t want to be bothered. Swerve, eavesdropping is bad.”

  Well, you know what he would say to all of that? “I’m a bartender. My business is everyone else’s business. That’s what being a bartender entails.”

  So yeah, he’s snooping. But it’s all for a good cause. Being around you is worth it. He’ll always take the chance to talk to you if he can.

  “Whatcha writing?” he asks when he pops up behind you with surprising stealthiness. You let out a surprised shriek and nearly jump right out of your seat. He barely catches a glimpse of your notebook’s contents before you slam it shut and cover it with your arms.

  “Swerve!” you yell, fleshy human cheeks flushing a wonderful pink color (Oh, how he loves the way you blush like that. He wants to make you do it more). “Don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. You humans make the cutest sounds when you're startled.” He folds his servos behind his back and leans forward a little. “I don’t see you in the bar often. A place like this isn’t really the best for writing stories, ya know.”

  You sigh and slip your notebook into the knapsack you always carry around. Darn, he thinks, how will your secrets be spilled to him now? “I’m not writing stories. I’m just…doing research on something.”

  “Research,” he says. “In a bar.”

  “Yes. Research in a bar. Is that so hard to believe?”

  He does a quick scan of your features. The blush on your cheeks has deepened to a shade of red that almost matches his paint job. You're fiddling with your knapsack and guarding that notebook with your life. Suddenly, it comes upon him like a tidal wave; his smile widens with the victorious air of someone who just won a medal. “Oh, I know what's going on here,” he says. “You've been spying on someone, haven’t you?”

  Your reaction only further proves his theory. You look horrified, and the way you frantically rush to defend yourself is like a bright neon arrow pointing directly at your head. “What? No! Nonono, why would you think that?!”

  He laughs. “Oh, you totally are! Your notebook is probably chock-full of evidence, amiright? Wait, don’t tell me! Let me guess!”  He circles the table and plops down across from you. “Is it Ratchet? Nah, too grouchy. Cyclonus? Mm, too weird. Oh, oh! It’s Rodimus, isn’t it? It has to be Rodimus!”

  “What are you talking about?” you ask him.

  He leans forward and smirks. “You're in love, little one. Am I right, or am I right?”

  “I-I’m not-there’s no-” You stutter for a moment longer, then get a hold of your emotions and reel them in. Sitting back and going stone-faced, you stare at him with only the color of your blush signaling what you are currently going through. “I’m not in love.”

  Does it hurt to know you have a crush on someone who isn’t him? Absolutely? But telling you that would mean admitting the feelings he has for you, and no way is he doing that now. His spark aches with the sting of rejection, but he hides it well and decides messing with you will make him feel much better. “C’mon, squirt. You can’t lie to me. It’s as clear as day that someone on this ship has you smitten.”

  “It’s not someone on this ship. I’m a human.”

  “You being a human and us being mechs means nothing. How many months have you been aboard this ship?” He counts off his digits. “Two? Three? No, it’s been five months, hasn’t it? Five months with us and your little spark has finally decided humans just don’t compare to mechs anymore. Aw, how adorable.”

  You look like you want to jump across the table to snap his intake shut. Instead though, you slump back in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “To me? Yeah. But that’s only because I’ve picked up on your reactions. Plus, the fact that you came here to jot down ‘notes’ means…” Now he gets excited. “It has to be someone in this bar.”

  You regard him cautiously. “And what if it is? What will you do about it?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing! My job is to pour drinks and listen to people’s woes. What kind of reputation would I be giving this fine establishment if I were to go around tattling on my loyal customers?” He taps his index digit against his dermas. Scrap, this is really going to hurt him. But he wants to see you happy. “I could help you, you know.”

  “Help me?” you echo.

  “Yeah, why not?” he forces himself to say with enthusiasm. “I’m always ready to help a pal! I’ll be your wingmech! How’s that sound?”

  A wide smile splits across your face and you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle. “Wingmech? Seriously? That’s so cheesy, Swerve.”

  By the Allspark, hearing your laughter is music to his ears. He’s envious of whoever you are crushing on. They’re one lucky mech to have someone like you chasing after them.  But he swallows down his jealousy for your sake and puffs out his chassis proudly. “Cheesy or not, I’m sure I can help you woo your future sweetspark. All you gotta do is learn to use a little bit of the ol’ Swerve charm and bingo, this bot will be yours in no time. So, whattaya say? You wanna employ my humble services?”

  You bite your lower lip and look down at your knapsack. “I don’t know. The Swerve charm may not exactly work on the mech I’m thinking of.”

  “Aha!” He stands up and points at you. “So you admit you're in love!”

  You give him a pointed look. “Alright, alright, fine, I admit it! Yes, there’s someone on this ship I really like. I’ve been writing down things he may or may not enjoy so I can come up with ways to show him that…that I want to…askhimout.” This last part comes out as a weak mutter. It’s obviously difficult for you to admit it, but oh boy is Swerve glad you have.

  “So it’s a he. Hm. IIIInteresting. Mind telling me what he’s like?”

  You smile. “Well, he’s outgoing. And very enthusiastic about what he does. He always has an upbeat attitude and definitely knows how to make me laugh. Some might think he’s a bit of a wise-ass though.”

  Swerve chuckles. “Sounds like a real dream boat.”

  “You…have no idea.” The way you say it sounds strange to him, but he doesn’t think any more of it. You drum your fingers against the table. “What…what would you do if you wanted to tell him that…that you like him?”

  I wouldn’t. I’d tell you I like you and no one else. “I’d probably do something bold. Something that would really grab his attention, ya know?” He thinks. “Does he like you back?”

  “Well, you see…I-I think so? I’m not sure. I talk to him a lot, but we’re…kind of different. I’m definitely not like him, but we get along. The more I hang out with him, the more these feelings grow.” You stare at your hands. “I don’t know if I should be admitting all of this.”

  “No, no, it’s okay!” He’s quick to reassure you. “I want to help! Seriously! I said I’d be your wingmech, and I’m going to uphold my word! So, let’s think! You think he likes you, and you definitely like him back. He’s the extroverted type, bold and brash…so give him a show! Really show him that you want him and you to be together, and you appreciate all of the good company he’s given you since you boarded the ship. The key is to really hit him here.” He thumps his chassis. “Right in the spark. It’s all emotions, squirt! Nothing else to it!”

  “Emotions, huh?” Once again, that odd look crosses you. “Do you think we could…practice?”

  “Practice?”

  “Yeah, like, working on what I’ll do when I finally admit my feelings to him? Would that be okay with you?”

  “Oh, yes, totally!” He stands up. “C’mere, let’s go through it. Think about what you want to say, and then act it out to me.”

  You stand up as well and walk over to him. Looking down, he sees just how small you are compared to him; you barely make it up to his chassis. You study him, biting your bottom lip. You look so nervous. It makes him want to be gentle.

  “Don’t be shy,” he says softly. “There’s no reason to be. It’s just you and I here, yeah? No one will pay attention to us.”

  You draw in a deep breath. “Okay, Okay.” Shaking out your arms, you fixate on him determinedly. “I’m not going to say anything. I’m going to do something. Is that okay?”

  “Oh,” he says, a bit confused. “Sure, yeah! What are you going to do?”

  You take a step back. Then, you jump forward, and he’s startled when you grab his shoulders and pull yourself up. His optics widen when you lean in and give him a short kiss. Every mechanical nerve in his body sings when he feels your lips on his, and he seems to lose control of himself, becoming nothing more than a statue.

  Then, it’s over. You let him go and drop back down, taking a step back and looking at him anxiously. He stares at you, air whooshing in and out of his intake as his systems attempt to cool.

  “It’s…It’s me?” he whispers.

  You lower your head and nod.

  He can’t talk. He can’t make a sound. It’s only for a good few seconds, but when he finally regains control of his vocalizer, he begins to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And then he’s picking you up and spinning you around in a tight hug. “You like me!” he cries. “You like me, you like me!” He couldn’t care less if anyone else in the bar is watching this. The one he’s been crushing on for months has been crushing on him back!

  You laugh along with him. “It took you this long to figure it out? I’ve been dropping hints since we started this conversation!”

  “That’s why you’ve been doing research in the bar! Primus, how did I not realize it sooner?” He holds you back so he can see your brilliant smile. It makes him melt. “I can’t believe you really like me,” he whispers.

  You cup his faceplate in your hands. “I’m guessing your happy about it, Mr. Wingmech?”

  He kisses you again, leaning into your touch. “Well…looks like my humble services paid off.” He pauses. “So…what did you think of the Swerve charm?”

[h0ney-gl0ws]

Hades Boys! Kiss Headcanons!

Hello! Here are some headcanons about how/where the hades boys like to kiss/be kissed. Now including Dionysus and Ares! Hooray! Thanks for reading, and be mindful of the content warnings. CW: Mentions of PTSD and Panic attacks for Thanatos’, Intoxication for Dionysus (Obv), and mentions of blood with Ares’, oh and angst all around, read with caution!

Word Count (Approx): 1,765

Thanatos Hand Kisses|Soft

After a long shift of reaping souls Thanatos’ hands can get tired of holding his scythe. He’s not one for showing his emotions outwardly, and because of that they can seep through in more subtle ways. For instance, when Zagreus says something ignorant, or when he has to deal with a mortal whose not ready to go, or even when he runs into an Olympian he often finds himself subconsciously gripping his scythe tighter.

He does not realize until the time when he returns to your arms and he can catch his breath, the strain it puts on his hands. Aching and tired after long hours at work. Which is why he appreciates your kisses so.

You delicately ghost your soft lips across his knuckles in a most soothing way. He thinks your kisses are reminiscent of that of a butterfly’s wings. How fitting.

He would cup your face with a tired smile as you press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “Gentle kisses for Gentle Death!” You would proclaim in an attempt to make him laugh.

“My, I often wonder what it is that I did to deserve someone as kind as you…” Thanatos would say in return.

He does so much for the house the least you can do is try to relieve some of the stress. You may not be able to make less work for him, but you can show your appreciation to him by giving him the love and affection he deserves.

On certain days when Thanatos’ mood is dampened due to memories of terror from Sisyphus dirty tricks, the nights he wakes panic stricken with the phantom sting of shackles against his wrists. Your delicate kisses to his wrists help to soothe the burn. Snapping him out of his own mind into reality where he is safe, and you’re there to comfort him.

Your kisses are not only comforting to him, but you are a genuine anchor to him. He does not know how he was able to exist before you came into his life. And he is forever grateful he has you now.

Zagreus Cheek Kisses|Affectionate

For someone who so rarely sees the sunlight he certainly challenges Helios for being the embodiment of it, and his kisses reflect that.

Bright and happy is he as he presses kisses into your cheek at every chance he gets. When he passes you in the hall you bet he’s taking a detour to give you a peck before he has to continue on. When he greets you after coming back from a successful run a celebratory kiss on the cheek is practically mandatory haha.

He loves it when you celebrate with him, nuzzling your face into the side of his. It’s such a small but caring notion that makes Zagreus feel as if he’s falling in love with you all over again.

When he’s preparing to head out for another run you meet him in the courtyard to wish him luck and see him off. He smiles when he catches your figure out of the corner of his eye dashing up to you for a final embrace before he returns once again. You give him another fond kiss on the cheek there whispering in his ear to give it all he’s got and to kick Theseus’ butt once again. Earning a laugh out of Zagreus and the promise that he will dedicate his next victory against the pompous champions to you.

On nights when he has scuffles with his father, or when he’s missing his mother, and words are too much in the moment. He wants nothing more than to relish in your embrace with your kisses there to provide the comfort his parents could not.

He often doesn’t let his inner turmoil bother anyone else, and did not have anyone to confide in until you came along. There’s a lot of things left unsaid, but you will be there for Zagreus to love and support him until he is ready. Even if that day never comes, you’re glad you can a least help to alleviate his troubles for a short amount a time.

If what he needs from you is not words, but doting kisses. Then kisses he shall receive. And when Zagreus is ready to speak with you, you will listen for as long as he needs. Zagreus is so glad to have found you, and would trade anything to be able to be by your side for the rest of eternity.

Hypnos Forehead kisses|Loving

Whenever you get excited to share some news with your lover and rush to go tell him only to find him fast asleep per usual, it’s hard to not let an adoring smile come across your face as you decide to let him rest and that the news can wait, but you can’t just leave after coming all this way to see him. This often results in you giving him a caring kiss on his forehead followed by whispers for him to have sweet dreams.

Unbeknownst to you sometimes those sneaky kisses of your actually wake the sleep incarnate. He does not mind though, in fact its quite the contrary. He is able to discern your footsteps from others, and sometimes he is actually awoken but hearing you approach. Occasionally, he would pretend to be asleep if not for a bit longer in order to gain one of your tender kisses.

He doesn’t do it out of malice of course, it’s simply the thought that even when he supposedly can’t hear your or react to what you have to say, you are still kind and devoted to him.

Yes, he hears the whispers of Zagreus and his brothers. Even his own mother talks about him with distain, but when you are given the option to say or do whatever you want to him without repercussion you choose to be caring and loving.

Perhaps that is why he is so drawn to you, and why he appreciates your kisses in secret. It’s nice to have someone who genuinely loves him for him. Not someone who talks to him so “no one else has too” Nor gives him constant sarcastic and petty remarks when he’s honestly just trying to help.

Another addition of why he loves your kisses so, is they remind him of a sort of motherly love that he did not get from his own. Why when he was younger she was kind to him, yes, but as he grew and her attention divided he noticed that she began to treat him more as if he were a burden on others. Your kisses bring him back to a time when his mother still saw him as her son. It’s a warm, fluffy feeling Hypnos is always chasing more of.

So for now, he will continue to let you believe that only you can hear your words of love and adoration for him as well as your caring gestures of your love, at least until he can return the favor tenfold.

Dionysus Lip kisses|Sloppy

Where Dionysus goes jolly festivities and merriment follow, as well as you of course. And what are these festivities if not without a little bit of wine. It’d be absolutely preposterous after all to attend a feast without an offering you know.

And we all know how Dionysus is with wine. You see, when you attend a feast with Dionysus by the hands of the mortals, or any feast with Dionysus for that matter, he loves to show you off. Constantly gushing about what an amazing partner you are.

And with that showing off can come with a bit of possessiveness. So when Dionysus gets to be clingy, you remind him just how much you love him with some kisses.

Dionysus loves to kiss you as he swears he can get more drunk off of your lips than the wine. He reminds you constantly of how you taste better than the finest ambrosia.

You don’t mind his kisses yourself. Yes it can be messy, with Dionysus being constantly in a state of intoxication, but you can always taste the remnants of the contents of his everlasting goblet against his lips. Making the sweetness of his kisses worth all of the awkward nose bumps and accidental teeth clashes.

All in all if Dionysus were to have to choose between never drinking wine again and you, he’d choose you every time, as you provide all the happiness he could ever need in his lifetime.

Ares Neck kisses|Passionate

When the fires of war are blazing so are the fires of passion.

Yes, Ares loves nothing more than to watch the bloodshed of a raging battlefield with you by his side. He caresses your waist as he presses fiery kisses into your shoulder, trailing them slowly up to your neck.

The clashing of swords satiating his hunger for blood in the most intense way, leading him to sometimes get a bit too rough with you.

There are times when the battle can get to his head and that can cause him to almost lose himself, if only for a short moment. A bite, too hard for your liking. The sting against your neck intensifying the raging action on the war zone below. You gasp and flinch away, causing him to realize what he’d done.

He’d apologize by kissing you much more softer, but finds it hard to restrain himself when he seeing the droplets of blood seeping through the wound from his bite mark against your neck.

He holds back to the best of his abilities as he cleans the wound with his lips. It causes you slight pain, but this time you feel as if it is more tolerable when he is caring for you rather than going feral.

You know he never intends to hurt you, and if push comes to shove he will always try to fix it and take care of you afterwards. All you can do is be there when he needs you, when the hunger becomes too much for him to handle, and he needs someone to pull him back to reality.

He’d be lost without you, a friend, a lover, and a lifeline. He would fight to the ends of the earth for you, and you would do the same. Truly, all is fair in love and war.

[maximwtf]

Hello person- I must say I love reading your lil fanfics always keeps me busy when It's in the middle of the night and I can't sleep lmao.

If I may, if you are still accepting requests- A Legolas x reader, where the reader isn't aware of a custom that elves have about braiding their hair and basically just accidentally confesses to him when they get bored one day and just start braiding his hair and only finds out when the Fellowship congratulates them for confessing or something along those lines hehehe

Legolas x reader

words: 1930

google docs pages: 3

warnings: none? fluff :D 

opening: One day while you’re bored, you begin to braid Legolas’ hair, unaware of its meaning to the elves. It’s only later, when you find out the message behind it. 

AN// Thank you so much for this request, love the idea! (this also gives me a reason to not write the other ideas I've been putting off xd) idk if this is a little ooc, but I hope it’s okay^^ It’s also lovely to hear that you enjoy my work!^^ Reader can be any gender !

         “A time for congratulations?”

It hadn’t been long since you had joined the fellowship from Rivendell, like most of the others had too. The only one you knew better than the others was Legolas. Him you had met more than a few times in the past, mostly as an accident, but you did genuinely enjoy his company. You’d never admit it to anyone in the group, but you were happy that he had been the one from Mirkwood to join. You heard it had been his father who had suggested befriending Aragorn to him, and it was when Legolas had begun to look for Aragorn that he had met you. Aragorn you had only met a few times, and back then only knew him as “strider” like most. The others you had only met when the Fellowship had been formed, but all of them had seemed okay. 

Now, trailing behind Legolas, you examined your surroundings silently. Old trees with roots going all across the forest blocked the view on your right and on the left only a few trees were growing, enjoying the sun they were able to get. The trees on the left casted dark shadows on the almost non existent road you were walking on. Gandalf had seemed to be very certain that there was a trail going here, but you weren’t so sure. But since no one else had doubted him, you had decided to just follow along. At least you weren’t going to get lost alone.

As your gaze moved from left to right, amazed by the sturdy old trees, being able to stand for such a long time, you noticed Legolas turning to look at you for a moment. It was only for a split second, but it made you humm to yourself. Perhaps he was happy to see you too. It was rarely that you could spend more time with him, mostly just short bump ins every now and then. He was a prince, and probably had a lot to do.

The group seemed to have noticed the darkened shadows of the trees, and decided to set camp for the night. The sun seemed to be setting, making the casted shadows even darker before the sky would begin to follow along. Spreading the darkness of the upcoming night all over.

You had agreed to take the first watch shift of the night before anyone could steal it from you. You’d rather stay up late and go to sleep than wake up in the middle of the night to take your turn. Boromir and Gimi seemed to have collected some bigger pieces of wood and some sticks that Aragorn had been able to set on fire to create a campfire. Legolas, you and the hobbits helped to bring some rocks and logs around the fire so everyone could sit. Sam had requested if he could make something to eat, and surprisingly enough no one had disagreed. The start of the night seemed to be going smoothly. 

As Sam had begun to cook some kind of a soup or a stew, everyone else had spread around the fire. Some were fixing up their weapons and others just talking. You swore you had seen Merry and Pippin bothering Boromir too. You on the other hand had found a spot close to the fire. Most of the ‘seats’ had been taken, but that just allowed you to sit closer to the warming flames of the campfire. Legolas had seated himself near you. You could hear him lowering his bow and the quiver against the log he was sitting on. Other than that and the quiet talking, the only noise you could hear was the mixing of the soup Sam was making. Sometimes the ladle would hit the edges of the saucepan, causing a small noise to break the silent gaps.The moon was only a half, but since there weren't a lot of clouds in the sky, it was able to shine its light all over the forest. At times it felt like time had stopped after the sun had started to go down, and was still shining some light over the fellowship. It was only the cold night air that let you know it indeed was almost time to go and rest. 

You shivered under your clothes, pulling the cloak closer to you, making sure it was properly over your shoulders. Something rustled behind you, and soon another cape was placed over you. A small ‘huh?’ left your mouth as you turned to look who it was. Legolas clipped the front clip shut so the cloack wouldn’t fall off of you. “You seemed cold.” He said, smiling slightly as he sat back down. “I- Thank you.” You said, still confused by the gesture. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” You then asked, feeling bad if he’d have to freeze because of you. The elf laughed lightly at your question and shook his head. “Elves can tolerate the cold better than humans, therefore you should keep it.” He explained to you. 

You had never really thought of how different you were to him. Sure, you were friends with him, but you had no idea that the elves could tolerate the cold better than humans. Maybe you’d find out something else about him as the fellowship continued. This had to only one from many things that made elves so different from you. 

You noticed that the faint light of the moon made his almost white hair look magical. The usually well braided strands of hair had opened up from the fighting the group had gone through with a few orcs earlier that day. You had noticed that the prince usually kept his hair well done, but maybe he hadn’t noticed yet. 

Not being sure if you’d embarrass him if you pointed it out, you got up and sat next to him. You weren’t an elf but you had gotten your hair done before and over the years learned how to braid hair in different styles. So without another word, you took a hold of one of the half opened braids and began to undo it completely. Legolas seemed to have tensed up for a moment and you felt his eyes on you, but to your surprise he soon turned his gaze away and let you continue. 

You braided the first strand of hair, pulling it behind his ear the way you’d seen him usually have them. After starting to fix the other one, you felt another pair of eyes on the two of you. With a quick look you found out who it was. Aragorn was sitting on the other side of the campfire with an amused look on his face. Not understanding what he had found amusing, you kept on working on Legolas’ hair. The prince’s hair was smooth and easy to work with. Humming to yourself, “you have lovely hair.” You said quietly, seeing the man shiver, but saying nothing about it. You were enjoying the moment, getting to feel closer to your friend for once. The warmth of Legolas’ cloak and the fire kept you warm and protected from the gusts of wind. The smell of the soup Sam had made was good, and it felt great to know you were going to be eating something that not only would taste good but also would be warm. You felt like you had only been eating bread and apples for such a long time. 

You finished the other braid and mixed it in with the unbraided parts of his hair. “Both are fixed again.” You hummed mostly to yourself but out loud so Legolas could hear it too. You felt his eyes on you for a moment before they moved to Sam, when he handed the both of you a bowl with some steaming soup in it. You thanked the hobbit with a nod, and began to eat. From the corner of your eye, you caught Aragorn telling Gimli something and them both silently laughing. Trying not to pay no mind to the conversation, you couldn't help but to wonder if it was about what Aragorn had found so amusing earlier?

After that night, many more passed. Some worse and some just as good, but what kept everyone going was the mission and the people in the fellowship. Legolas never mentioned anything about you braiding his hair, and he even let you do it once or twice after. But after every time, it felt like more eyes were on the two of you. It was first only Aragorn, then Gimli joined and soon even Gandalf was in on it. At times it felt like even Legolas knew what was going on. 

After some time of you being oblivious of what had been going on, you decided to bring it up. You had so many theories of what they could have been up to, that you just had to find out. Making your way from the back of the group to where Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were, you prepared yourself. “What are you hiding from me?” This got the attention of the three, all of them slowing down their walking speed a little. “Whatever do you mean?” Legolas asked, giving Aragorn a quick look, almost as if he was trying to tell the man something. “You all clearly have been sharing a rumor or something along the lines of that.” You replied, but didn’t get an answer from anyone for a moment. “You should tell them.” Gandalf’s voice rang from the front of the group, clearly also aware of what you were talking about. “It isn’t a rumor per say.” Gimli started, looking at Aragorn for a moment, hoping he’d take it from there. You saw Legolas look away, not taking part in the conversation. “We wished to congratulate you on confessing to Legolas.” Your eyes widened for a moment, and without even wanting to, a “what?” Left your mouth. “They weren’t aware, Aragorn.” Legolas finally joined in, looking at his friend. “What is this all about?” You tilted your head. “When you braid his hair. See, to elves it has a significant meaning behind it.” Aragorn tried to explain. Your hand traveled over your mouth, clearly shocked. “And you didn't think to tell me?” You blushed slightly, smacking Legolas’ arm lightly. He stopped, taking a light hold of your hand to pause you as well. “I wanted to explain it to you but I found that..” He tried to look for words for a moment, and you let him. “I found that I cared for you that way, and I wasn’t certain if you had found the meaning yourself...” His eyes met yours again, after traveling for a moment. You stayed silent, not even noticing that the rest of the fellowship had also stopped near the two of you. “But I am aware that I should have told-” Legolas broke the silence but you stopped him before he could finish. “It’s all okay. I feel similar.” You admitted, looking away for a second. “Is this a better time for congratulations?” Gimli’s voice asked from behind you as Aragorn walked closer as well. “Yes, yes it is.” You smiled and turned back to Legolas. His eyes looked at you with admiration in them. “Gi Melin.” (I love you)

[hayakawalove]

Wisteria and Ciabatta

Part Two

Summary: Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You.

A/N: I'm not really sure where this came from. I don't expect it to get a huge reaction, just because it's like way niche. But I couldn't get this out of my head. I am like pretty certain there will be a part two with smut, but this first chapter is just very sweet. This chapter can be read alone, you won't need to read the next one if you don't want to. Suguru is a loserboy in this but I like him that way. Enjoy!

CW: SFW, food, fluff

W/C: 5,608

The forest was quieter than usual today, he couldn’t help but notice. Suguru had become well acquainted with the sounds of the forest over the years. He traversed them for work often, always traveling from town to town to sell his flowers and bread. Flowers from his own backyard, and bread made to perfection from his own two hands. He enjoyed the way people's faces lit up when they saw the beautiful flora or when the food passed their lips. Suguru had to go out of his way today, venturing out further than normal. He didn’t sell as much as he wanted to in the towns near his home, so he figured he may as well see if anyone else would be interested. 

Lavender, Hydrangea, Yarrow. 

Suguru ran the list through his mind repeatedly. The basket he carried beside him held heaps of flowers, all trimmed to perfection. Along with the flowers he had several loaves of bread. 

Dutch, Rye, French. 

His footsteps slow when he notices a cluster of homes come into view. It was a small town, one he had never been to before. There couldn’t have been more than 50 buildings, but they were all full evident by the smoke rising from each chimney. His feet fall onto the stone path as he makes his way to the first house. When he knocks, he plasters a smile on his face. He had danced this routine many times before, always donning a careful mask when interacting with potential customers. 

“Hello?” An old man opens the door carefully. He must have been twice as short as Suguru. 

“Hello, I’m selling flowers and bread. Would you be interested in buying any?” 

The man opens his mouth to decline when a woman’s voice sounds out behind him. 

“Who is that?” 

She hobbles into view, situating herself beside what Suguru can only assume is her husband. 

“This fellow is selling flowers and bread, I was just going to-“ 

“You never buy me flowers anymore!” 

Suguru averts his gaze, training them on the floor below. He doesn’t mind being there while they argue, but he’s learned that an unwanted ear can make people uncomfortable. 

The old man grumbles before walking away further into the house to grab his money. Suguru can feel her eyes wandering over him. He digs his hand into his basket and produces a Hydrangea. 

“On the house.” He speaks quietly, winking at her. 

Her face flushes as she takes the flower, admiring the color. Her husband comes back and counts his cash before handing it to Suguru who doesn’t bother counting it. He grabs a heap of flowers, all three types tossed in, before handing them to the man. 

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru smiles before stepping back, watching him give the flowers to his wife. 

An adorable moment by nature. It almost feels too vulnerable to see the look of love on the old woman’s face as she receives the gift. 

Suguru continues on to the next house, selling flowers and bread as he goes. He went to every house in town until there was only one remaining. 

He walks up to the dwelling, knocking on the door and waits patiently for whoever’s living there. 

The door opens, your body standing there. 

If you asked Suguru a day ago what he thought the most beautiful thing was he would say a dicentra or maybe even tulips. That was before he saw you. Your cheeks like petals, soft and plump. You also had eyes that shined brighter than the early morning dew that clung to his garden. You were magnificent. You were the most beautiful flower he had ever seen. 

“Hello?” 

Suguru never found himself speechless. Throughout his life he had found himself in a multitude of situations that would warrant it, but he wasn’t, not even once. He had trained himself on how to smile and talk to people, he prided himself on it. No one was too hard to talk to. 

Until he met you. 

His lips refused to cooperate with him, throat muddled up. You look up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. 

“I’m selling homemade bread and flowers.” 

Idiot.

That’s what he decided to say? Not even a proper hello first? 

“Oh, lovely. I was hoping to make something for dinner but didn’t have anything around the house. How much for the bread?” You ask, digging in your pocket for money. 

Suguru tears his eyes from you, a painful task, and opens his basket. Most of his inventory was gone. He did have a loaf of Dutch bread at the bottom of the basket, the sight of it mocking him. He couldn’t give you that. It was no longer fresh, and it was cold to the touch. He couldn’t give you it. 

You pull out your hand, palm cupped with money. 

“I’m out of bread.” He finds himself saying. 

Your brow raises. A beat passes before you speak. 

“Okay, what about flowers?” 

He wordlessly thanks your graciousness. In his basket he finds two Yarrows. All of his flowers were beautiful, but he found himself cursing God for not making anything more beautiful. 

Suguru holds them up to you, fighting back a whimper when your hand grazes him as you pluck the stems from his grasp. 

“How much?” 

“You don’t have to pay.” 

He would never force you to pay for anything, especially not something that could never rival your beauty. 

He watches your lips slowly morph into a smile. 

“You’re an interesting merchant.”

He’s sure you’re making fun of him, but he doesn’t care. His cheeks feel hot as he looks into your eyes. 

“I was planning on visiting this village again tomorrow, I will bring more bread then.” 

He wasn’t planning on visiting this village again until now. It had been a random stop he never was going to make again. 

Your eyes flit down to the Yarrow, admiring them. 

“You know where to find me.” 

~~~

Suguru’s feet hurt when he finally arrives back home. He wants to go to bed but he can’t. Not when he needs to make bread for you. Usually he had extra dough laying around, but he didn’t. Even if he did, he would’ve preferred to make it fresh. He works tirelessly as he prepares the dough, pouring all his love into it. Flour cakes under his fingernails, his palms hurting from kneading the dough for so long. 

He wouldn’t dream of complaining. Not when he knew who this was for. He didn’t even catch your name. Once he knew it, he would spell it in the stars so everyone did too. 

Suguru barely gets any sleep. It was a concoction of baking and nerves. His house smells like bread while he walks around, preparing for his long journey ahead. He searched in his kitchen before finding a small jar of homemade strawberry jam. One of his neighbors, a kind elderly widow, had made it for him. They often traded breads and jams, occasionally sharing them outside when the weather was right. 

Once everything was ready, he placed it all in his basket before setting off into the forest again. 

The walk was way faster than he remembered it being. His mind was too clouded with thoughts of you. He enters the town, making his way directly to your house first thing. He wasn’t even really sure if he was going to go to the other houses after. 

The door rattles with his fist, and he wills the butterflies going off in his body to settle down. 

If he had at all been worried your beauty was a fluke, which he wasn’t, his worries certainly died down the moment he looked at you for a second time.

You’re just as beautiful the second time around as you were the first. 

Your chest was heaving with sweat lining your forehead. You must’ve been hard at work. Doing what, he wondered? 

“It’s you.” 

“It’s me.” He responds with a smile. “Much more prepared this time, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t want to tell you he stayed up until the sun rose to prepare your bread.

A sly grin breaks across your face. You lean against the door frame, your eyes sliding down his figure. Suguru can feel his skin tingling with each inch your eyes covered. 

“What have you brought for me today?” 

Suguru holds up his basket and reveals the fresh bread. It was a simple loaf of wheat bread, and although it was basic, it was renowned as his best selling one. He feels his heart flutter the second the scent reaches your nose, your face lightening up. 

“That smells wonderful.” 

“Tastes wonderful too, or so I’ve been told.” 

You open the door a bit more, revealing the rest of the house behind you. It was humble, an aboad that was probably common in these parts of town. 

“Why don’t you come in and share it with me?” 

The offer stops Suguru in his tracks. Out of all the things you could have said to him, he wasn’t expecting that. 

The first thought that crosses his mind is flattery. You want to eat with him? 

The second feeling that follows after is worry. You want to eat with him, and he’s a stranger. 

“You hardly know me.” He speaks. 

The idea that you would open your door to just anyone frightened him a bit. What if it was someone with bad intentions? 

“What’s your name?” 

You don’t look afraid, even though Suguru feels you should be. 

“Suguru.” 

You toss his name across your brain several times. You say your name back and step away, letting him come in. 

“Now you know my name and I know yours. Share it with me?” 

He's touched by your kindness, but still mildly unnerved at the idea you might do this for someone with unsavory motives. 

It’s hard to refuse your offer, so he finds himself stepping in after you. The close proximity whisks his breath away but you hardly notice. You don’t even spare him a glance as you head over to your table. 

You sit down and look up at him, waiting for him to join you. He places the basket on the table before rummaging around, pulling the loaf out.

“I also brought more flowers, in case you were interested.” 

“Will you let me pay this time?” 

“Maybe.” No, he wouldn’t. 

Suguru didn’t need any form of payment. As long as he got to see the joy on your face again, that was all he needed. 

You grab a knife and begin to slide through the loaf, slicing several pieces for the two of you. He wondered if you were able to tell he made the bread fresh for you. Did the warmth of it tingle your fingers? Could you feel the love that seeped from it? 

Suguru pulls out the jam and sets it aside. 

“What’s that?” You ask. 

“My neighbor made it. It’s strawberry.” 

You pick up the jar, eyes gliding across the glass in amazement. 

“Where do you live? The people in this town don’t bake bread or make jam. Maybe I should move to your town.” You joke. 

Don’t say that, he thinks. If you say that, he might beg you to. 

He hardly knows you, yet he’s finding himself completely entranced by you. He aches to learn more. 

“A town further South. A couple hours at most.” He keeps his eyes trained down on your hands, watching as you spread the jam on the bread. 

Only when the silence stretches on for too long does he rip his eyes from your fingers, looking up. 

He doesn’t know whether he should be startled or not at the face you’re making. Your eyes are open wide, like you’re looking through him. 

“Hours?” You repeat. 

Suguru nods, his brows raising. 

“I didn’t see a horse.” 

“I walked.” 

You stutter a bit before placing the knife down, pushing the plate in the middle of the table. Suguru’s eyes drift down, the intimacy of sharing a dish not lost on him. 

“I could never walk that long.” You murmur, picking up a piece of bread, raising it to your lips. 

Suguru tries not to stare at the way your lips part, but it’s difficult. 

“It’s not that bad.” He pulls his piece up to him, taking a bite. 

“Not everyone has such long legs.” You say around the food. 

Suguru’s mouth perks up, a smile gracing his features. He was used to people commenting on his height, but he felt an extra ounce of pride when you were the one saying it. 

You mumble around the food, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

“Suguru, this is wonderful!” Excitement seeps from your words and Suguru’s heart jumps. 

“Thank you.” He dips his head down, suddenly bashful. 

The two of you share the meal, words flowing flawlessly between you. 

“It’s a shame that my father isn’t here, I’m sure he would love this as much as I do.” You comment. 

Suguru leans back, not sure if this is a touchy subject. 

“He’s just out of town today, I’ll share some with him when he comes back. Maybe.” You smirk. 

“What does he do for work?” 

“He helps people get their farms up and running. I think he traveled to help a young couple get theirs set up.” 

Suguru begins to daydream about owning a farm with you. Would you adore his flowers as much as he did? Would you let him do all the work? He wouldn’t mind it, he preferred it. 

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help the infatuation that grew in his heart. 

Besides, Suguru never was one to love normally or calmly. 

“I was trying to clean the house before he returns, but I must admit I’m having a hard time reaching things.” 

“Would you allow me to help? I’ve got long legs, you know.”

A song floats over to his ears, a song built on your laughter. He could get used to that. 

“I couldn’t make you do that. I already dragged you inside to eat with me. I’m sure you have much more important things to be doing.” 

Never, he thinks. Nothing would be more important than this. 

“It’s okay.” He says plainly. 

He watches as you seem to be debating inside your head. You give up, standing up to carry the dishes to the sink. 

“I would love help changing out the candles.” You say sheepishly. 

Suguru waits as you leave to go find the extra candles, his head racing with thoughts. After you finished, there would be no reason for him to stay. He would have to go back home. He wanted to stay and talk with you more. Your words facisnated him. He felt like a child, the way he longed to hear you tell him stories. He didn’t want to go home. Not when being with you felt more like home than his own ever did. 

“I found them.” You speak, snapping him out of it. 

You guide him around the house, showing him every spot that needed a new candle. 

It should be a simple task for him. He finds it increasingly difficult, however. He feels your eyes bore into him each time he reaches up, making his heart pound. Even though it’s easy to do, he’s just replacing old candles, he almost feels like he’s never done anything so hard before. He can feel the way your eyes track his movement, almost making it impossible to focus. His linen shirt suddenly feels too hot, as he tries to keep his eyes on his hands. 

“There, how does that look?”

You stare at the metal candle holder for a minute before nodding, a soft hum coming from your lips. 

“It looks wonderful, Suguru.”

He decides no one has ever said his name as beautifully as you do. 

He steps back, following you towards the kitchen. He can tell that he needs to leave, but a small part of him is upset at that fact. 

“Will you be in town anytime soon? I’d love to purchase more bread, if that’s alright.” You stare at him as he gathers his things. 

He nods, and looks down at you. 

“I can come back in several days.” 

“Fantastic, I’ll be looking forward to it.” You say happily. 

So will I, Suguru thinks. 

~~~

Suguru leans back, watching you chew a new recipe he tried for bread. So far, so good, he thinks. Your lips are played in a smile as you taste it, swallowing it with a sigh. 

“I don't think you can make something bad.” 

“Is that a challenge?” Suguru jokes. 

“One you’d fail, I’m sure.” 

Your flattery causes his heart to race, a throb settling deep in his chest. 

“I wish I could bake like you.” You say. 

“I could teach you, if you’d like. It isn’t that hard.” 

Your eyes flash with excitement and Suguru has to swallow the knot that forms in his throat. 

“You can?” 

Yes, anything for you. 

“Sure. I can bring the ingredients tomorrow.” 

You jump up and down in your seat, chattering away to him about all that you want to do with the bread. Are you aware of how you make his stomach twist? He thinks there’s no way you are. 

~~~

When Suguru comes the next morning he has a burlap sack filled to the brim with ingredients, all for your bread. You open the door the second he knocks it, taking him by surprise. 

“I apologize, I didn’t sleep much last night.” You say all giddy, opening up the door more. 

Suguru steps inside and follows you to your table. You already have it set up according to how he told you. There’s bowls and spoons, all perfectly set. His hair is already tied back, so all he needs to do is roll up his sleeves. 

He stands next to you, reading out what ingredients to add next. He watches over your shoulder as you eagerly mix, chuckling to himself when some of it spills out the sides. 

“Slowly, sweetheart.” He murmurs. 

You apologize quietly, following his order of slowing your hand down. 

It was looking good, but now was the time to start getting your hands dirty. 

“The next step is to knead it. You do this by placing it on the table, and pressing your hands into it.” Suguru explains, watching you scrap the bowl and plop the dough in front of you. 

“Mmm like this?” You ask, folding it over itself. 

“Just like that, a little more pressure.” He adds. 

Without even thinking, he reaches his arms on either side of you, correcting your form to knead it harder. His hands hover over yours, pressing your palms down more against the plush dough. 

“You have big hands.” You chuckle, and suddenly Suguru’s aware of what he’s doing. 

“Oh, my bad. I shouldn’t have-“ 

“No, it’s okay. You should keep your hands there, so I don't mess up.” You correct him. 

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking at him. His face is unbearingly close to yours, heat from your cheeks radiating off and scorching his face. He looks deep into your eyes before you’re quickly looking back down, watching the bread below your hands. 

Suguru berates his heart as he helps you, hoping it slows down. That moment with you kept repeating in his mind, over and over again. 

He snaps out of it when you squeal, pulling the bread from the oven. The top of it is perfectly golden, the smell of it filling your tiny kitchen. 

“Look, Suguru!” You say, placing it down. 

He looks over the top of your head and smiles. 

“It looks good, let’s wait for it to cool before we try it.” 

He would have liked to wait a little longer, afraid it would burn your tongue, but he couldn’t say no with the way you were tilting back and forth, begging to cut into it. Suguru takes the liberty, pouring the bread from the pan before sliding a knife down the side of it. It cuts smoother than butter, steam wafting up from it. 

“Okay, let’s try it.” Suguru raises a small piece, holding it in his hand as he lifts it to your mouth. 

The heat soaks into the pads of his finger tips, but he’d much rather get burned than you. You look down and blow on the bread, Suguru has to force himself not to gasp at the air caressing his skin. You look up at him and take a bite, smiling as crumbs dust your lips. 

“It’s so good!” You murmur around the mouth full of food. 

Suguru uses his other hand to lift up a separate piece, taking a slight nibble. It was fantastic. Sweeter than the bread he made, he wondered if that was just because you were the one who created it. 

“You may put me out of business.” He jokes.

You pull your piece from his hand, holding it tightly next to your face. A shame, he thinks. He would’ve preferred for you to keep eating from his palm. Did that say something about him? 

“I might, you better watch over your back.” You say, eating the rest of your bread with a grin. 

“I will.” Suguru says back, treasuring the way the food melts on his tongue. 

~~~

“Hey Suguru?” 

The two of you have settled into a comfortable routine, as he had visited a couple of more times, always sitting in your kitchen to share a plate of bread with you. 

He flicks his eyes up to you before looking back down. 

“Is the forest dangerous?” You finish. 

Suguru takes a moment to think. He’s never thought about it before. His feet have carried him through the trees for countless years. 

“Not really. The only thing you have to look out for is bandits.”

He takes a moment to appreciate the way you’re gaping at him. 

“I’ve never seen any though. Just know they’re out there.” 

“They’d be a fool to try to rob you.” You mutter under your breath. 

Suguru lets out a quiet chuckle. Any reason to point out his height, you’d take it. 

“As children we’re warned not to go in too deep.” You mumble. 

“I can bring you if you like? They have some Gardenia’s there, not too deep in. We can go and get them if you want?” 

“You’d keep me safe from bandits?”

Yes, you don’t even have to ask. He’d go toe to toe for you.  

“Of course.” 

The more he got to know you, the more Suguru grew to like you, really like you. It was no longer infatuation, it grew into something more beautiful and large. 

He notices you dip your head down at the tone of his soft voice. You have a few habits he’s picked up on. One of them is every reaction you have to his words. You like to poke and prod him, but the second he pushes back or uses a specific tone you look away, teeth nibbling on your lip. It’s adorable, he thinks. 

~~~

You both decide to go to the forest tomorrow. He decides to stay in your town overnight because there would be no point in making the long trek back to his only to come back tomorrow morning. You offered a bed in your house, knowing your father would not have it, but Suguru declined. It would be improper, he told you. He had never felt his body fight so hard against him before. Even though it’s hard for him to say no, he doesn’t relent. He ends up staying at the only Inn in town. It was a normal house, with five extra rooms spread out. His host was a sweet older woman who insisted on helping carry his bags to his room. The act pained him, but he knew better than to tell a woman no.

As he lay in bed that night he stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of you curling around his mind. 

You were here, in this town. 

Suguru wakes up earlier than you do. His eyes crack open the second the sun shines through, his body restless. There was so much to show you, he didn’t know where to begin. Along with that, he felt the early onsets of fear begin to take hold. He had never thought about bandits before, but now that you mention it he couldn’t shake the idea. What if there were some when you went out? He wasn’t afraid of taking care of you. He knew he could do that. He just didn’t want you to see something ugly. He feared he would never forgive himself. 

Suguru walks to your house, stopping a short ways away outside to linger near a bunch of trees. He didn’t want to intrude, and he had no idea what you’ve told your father about your relationship with him. 

What was your relationship with him? 

Friendly, he thought. You had always welcomed him with a smile. However there were lingering touches and stolen glances over fresh bread, conversations floating across your tongues easily. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. There was a chance you thought nothing of him, treating him as you would anyone else. 

“Suguru!” 

His head shoots up the second his name falls from your lips. 

“I apologize for making you wait.” You say, stopping short in front of him. 

You look like you got together hastily, sleep marks imbedded in your flesh with several of your hairs out of place. 

Did you know how perfect you were? 

“I wasn’t waiting long, are you ready to go?” 

Suguru smiles at the excitement spreading across your face. He knew the flowers were in bloom, but he wasn’t sure they could rival you. 

As the two of you walk, you take careful calculated steps as you notice the weather. It was sunny without being too temperamental. You could hear laughter of the village children carrying over the wind to you. Suguru listened to you as you rattled on, occasionally dropping his input, but he much preferred to listen. 

When the trees started to get thicker Suguru noticed you start to walk closer to him. It was cute, the way you looked towards him for shelter and protection. 

“I think this is where I saw them last time.” Suguru says aloud, stopping to the side and looking around. 

“They’re bright red, so they're easy to spot.” 

He sees excitement curl in your eyes at the prospect of finding some hidden treasure, even if that treasure was just flowers. 

Suguru locates them after several minutes, grabbing your hand and leading you towards it. There were several bushes laid together, all of them overflowing with the red petals. 

He smiles to himself at the gasp you let out, your fingers tentatively reaching forward to kiss the leaves. 

“Pretty, right? I always think about taking some home with me so I can plant them but I can never bring myself to do it. They look much better out here anyhow.” 

Suguru sits next to you as you stare at the bush. He finds it cute that you’re interested in his interests. If you asked, he would tell you anything you wanted to know about plants or baking. Suguru wasn’t an expert in everything, but he was an expert in those. 

“Suguru, thank you for showing me these.” Your voice trails off, still focused on what was in front of you. 

He smiles and picks a red Gardenia, careful placing it behind your ear. 

“Anytime.”

Your hand trembles as you reach up to touch the flower on your ear. The forest was silent, save for the sounds of birds and bugs, complete serenity falling over you. 

The only way Suguru’s able to tell that time is passing is by the view of the sun, now completely overhead, shining through the canopy of trees around you. Neither of you wanted to leave, so instead you lay on your backs, looking at the trees above you. The leaves and sun paint beautiful pictures, yellow shapes being shined upon your skin. 

“Hey Suguru?” 

Suguru hums, turning his head to the side to look at you. 

Your arm is outstretched, holding the flower he gave you in front of you. Your fingers are twirling it around, spinning the flower over and over. Suguru’s dizzy at the sight, but he can’t tell if it’s because of your beauty or the the spinning. 

“They say flowers have a language of their own, don't they?” 

Suguru’s lashes flit as he memorizes the lines on your face, wanting to capture this moment. 

“They do.” 

“Do you know the meanings of flowers?” 

“Some of them.” 

Suguru sits up and pulls the tie from his hair, letting the black silk cacoon him. He looks over his shoulder back at you, but you’re too preoccupied with the sight of the twirling. 

“What does this one mean?” 

Suguru ponders for a moment, unsure whether or not he should tell you. Would it come off too strong? He couldn’t bare the thought of lying to you though. He’s a strong man so he fights the urge to look away from you when he says, 

“Secret love.” 

He swears the forest ceases all sound at that moment, that or the beating of his heart is far louder than anything else. 

“Is that so?” You ask, peeking around the bright flower to look at him. 

He hums, waiting to see if you would have a negative reaction. Would you get up and leave him here, never to allow him back into your home? He wouldn’t blame you. 

A demure smile spreads across your face, sitting up until you’re laying on your elbow. You bring the flower to your face, taking in a deep breath before you sit up completely. Suguru tracks your movements carefully. 

“In that case,” you say, sliding the flower behind Suguru’s ear, the bright pop of red constrasting with his dark hair. 

Suguru swears his heart stops beating in that moment, his body completely rigid with surprise. You knew the meaning of the flower, and you were giving it to him? 

A silent understanding flows between you two, Suguru no longer on edge as the seconds pass. You both are aware now, your feelings as out in the open as they could be without physically saying it. It was funny, the flower meant secret love but his admiration for you was no longer a secret. 

“It’s a shame we can’t stay out here forever.” You say.

You lay back down, closing your eyes. 

Suguru silently agrees, leaning back until he’s laying next to you, much closer this time. He wonders what’s going to happen next. Would he be able to court you properly, would your father accept him?

He hears you shuffle around before your face pops into view, blocking out the sun above him. His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you. You looked nothing short of an Angel, golden light haloing around your head as you smile down at him. 

“I know you’re busy where you live, but why don't we meet in this forest once a week?” You say. 

“Or I can walk down and meet you closer to your village, that might be easier.” 

No, he couldn’t handle the idea of you walking these forests alone, or walking that long at all.

“Let’s meet here.” Suguru agrees, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. 

Neither of you want to be the one to look away first. So instead, you just continue to gaze into the others eyes. 

Suguru hears an older man call your name just outside the sanctity of the forest. It must be your father, and by the sounds of it he was angry. Probably upset that dinner hadn’t been made yet, if Suguru had to come up with a reason. He didn’t want to dislike your father, after all he had a hand in creating you, but he didn’t appreciate the way he treated you. 

“I suppose I’ll have to leave now…” you trail off, your voice caked in sadness. 

Suguru’s grip on your cheek tightens, and he resolves to do something he’s never done before, yet dreamed of countless times. 

He sits up and leans in, his lips ghosting yours. 

“Suguru…” You whisper, looking into his eyes, the movement of your lips tickling his. 

“May I?” Just this once, he wants to beg. Let me taste you just this once. 

He waits for an answer that doesn’t come. Instead, you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him softly. It was everything he had dreamed of. Your lips were soft, the lingering taste of the sweet strawberry jam he always brought to you mingling with his own. 

If only he could stop time. 

If only nothing existed but the two of you. 

As soon as it starts, it’s over. You’re pulling away, your eyes flickering open to look at him. He can hardly breathe under your gaze. His fingers itch with the need to grab you, press you against him, show the love he’s been feeling all this time but has been too afraid to say aloud. 

Suguru’s lips tingle as he watches you slowly rise to your feet. You dip your head in acknowledgment, tossing over your shoulder. 

“Coming, father!” 

Stay, he thinks. Stay. 

“Goodbye Suguru.” You murmur, giving him a smile. 

He watches you scamper out of the forest, feeling like you took his heart with you. 

He isn’t sure he’s ever going to want it back. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites

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[jooshergoober]

Silence of Voices

𖤐 Peeta Mellark x Reader

On the 74th Annual Hunger Games reaping day, District 12 gets another tribute taken in. That person is you, yet are you really ready?

I haven’t seen any peeta fics where the reader is a badass and where the reader doesn’t take the place of katniss so here you go ^_^

[masterlist] | [next]

1.

Reaping day started no differently. Trying to spend your possible last moments before getting your name picked to kill or be killed for the sake of their entertainment.

Walking through the hellhole called district 12 was nothing special. Perhaps you couldn't say anything because you had no one, wow what a way to put that. Yet, having no one means that you had nothing to lose, that is, if you were reaped.

You walked past the silence of people, making your way to your makeshift home. You had only started to properly live in it to avoid talking to anyone. Everyone can go die, you thought, but was it worth it?

Living until your twelve and putting your name into the raffle just to be picked off to die. District 12 has no chance of winning, but maybe you would be picked and get sent off to your misery.

You were always alone, your stoic persona led people away from you. Not that you minded, obviously, you wanted to avoid contact with anyone ever since the passing of your parents. Not bothering to pay attention to the outdoor distractions, you looked through a crappy drawer that contained a limited amount of clothing, yet it still worked its purpose. You took out the light blue dress and scoffed at its color.

Instead, you stripped from your original clothes, and put on the ‘pretty’ dress. The dress went to your knees, with a soft pattern of trills on the bottom of it. You kept your hair down, not bothering to put it up or make a good appearance. You knew you weren’t going to get picked, your name has been put in it for years.

After keeping your worn shoes, the reaping alarm was heard, telling the people of district 12 that it was time for the annual reaping day.

You only let out a small sigh and began to leave your makeshift house, looking at it one more time, before turning away and walking towards the reaping ceremony.

Walking in, the crowd is getting larger and larger, you being one of them. As you were walking, you noticed a girl around your age, 16, consoling a younger girl, most likely her first time. Shaking your head, you pushed past and got into the line. You stuck your hand out for them, pricking your finger and pushing the wound against the paper.

[ (reader) (lastname) ]

The machine read, before you turned and got into the separated groups. You felt bad for whoever was to be chosen, it puts a lot of pressure, you thought.

After everyone was finally registered, you stood in your place, watching as individuals dressed in smooth suits and fancy clothing walked out, taking their seats to enjoy the show. The tall microphone in the middle was empty, before a woman dressed in magenta and elegant clothing. She tapped the microphone before speaking, a smile on her face.

“Welcome, Welcome, Welcome.” Her bright voice rang out for all to hear. Her dark eyes scanned the crowds as she smiled.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor.” She gave a nod, which made you want to gag.

Having to hear her voice another year was extremely annoying, yet you thanked her for never pulling your name out.

“Now before we begin—“ she started, but you couldn't care less. You ignored the sound of her voice and watched the video appear on the screen with a blank look. The capitol could die, especially the president.

You couldn’t care who died, especially if it was the president. Maybe if he died, the hunger games would stop.

Only hearing the muffled voice of the president and you took your time to look around you, glaring at the peacekeepers that were located near you.

“—As usual, ladies first..” the woman said slowly, taking small steps towards the container that held your name in it and plenty of others. You only bothered to pay attention now, but you stared at her hand as she grabbed a piece of paper with someone's name on it.

She moved back to the microphone and opened the paper, opening her mouth to say the sacrificed lamb.

“Primrose Everdeen.”

You only stood there as you watched the young, blonde, and scared girl walk slowly and away from the people near her, the woman edging her to come onto the stage. You recognized her as the scared girl, how unfortunate that her first day she gets reaped.

You watched silently as the other girl, whom you saw comforting her prior to the reaping, stepped out and called her name.

That caused the peacekeepers to hold her back before the words came out of her mouth.

“I volunteer! I volunteer!” As she pushed the guards away from her and finally with a calm voice saying, “I volunteer as tribute.”

Your eyes widened at her actions, wondering how crazy she was for sacrificing her own life for a kid that would go through this again.

Apparently, this also shocked the woman on the stage as she urged the volunteer to come up instead.

When she finally arrived onto the stage, with a hint of hesitance, she now stood next to the woman.

“What's your name?” The colorful lady asked, looking at the first ever volunteer.

“Katniss Everdeen.” She said quickly.

You now know why she did that. She did it to save her sister. Was it really worth it? Then again, could you really say anything.

You drowned out their voices yet only stood to watch them. You noticed the people around you did that hand sign again. You brought your index, middle, and ring finger to your lips and held it up, along with everyone else. You brought your hand back down as you watched the white haired woman make her way to the boy’s selection container.

She put her hand in, again, and grabbed a paper. She made her way back to the microphone and opened the paper, saying the name loudly.

“Peeta Mellark.”

You turned your head to where everyone else was looking. The boy you saw made you pause. His face, mouth opened as the light in his eyes slowly disappeared hearing his name.

You could only watch with silent eyes as the boys around him moved away, giving him space to walk towards the stage. He made small steps and was finally on the stage.

“Before we.. conclude our tributes.” She paused for a second before smiling.

“There was an anonymous voting, and district 12 was chosen for having an extra tribute.” She smiled sweetly and looked at a peacekeeper and nodded.

Two peacekeepers brought a smaller bowl of names, and it was held in front of her while everyone looked at each other in fear.

“Twenty people were nominated to be the extra tribute, and will be determined right now.” She gave a nod and put her hand in, quickly grabbing one and opening it. The peacekeepers holding the container pulled away and stepped aside.

“(reader) (lastname).” Her voice broke you from your trance. Your eyes widen as you look at the woman in shock. She beckoned you onto the stage and you only stood frozen in your spot, watching as the girls around you only stared at you.

You finally began to move your feet, quickly moving onto the stage and standing next to the boy, Peeta, you think that was his name.

“Now, let’s give an applause for our 3 tributes, from district 12!”

She motioned for them to shake hands, and you only stood to the side, not wanting to interact with the two. They stare awkwardly at each other as the woman gives one last statement.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.” She smiled as she put her hands on the first two tributes shoulders and pulled them with her, you following behind quietly. The doors closing behind all of you.

[gunnerfc]

Lia Wälti | first meeting (fluff blurb)

You cursed to yourself as you rushed around your new London apartment. Of course, you woke up late on your first day at a new job. You hurried around your apartment, attempting to do everything you normally do in the mornings in a condensed amount of time.

You were set to join Arsenal Women’s medical staff as a new physical therapist, though after being late on your first day, you weren’t sure if they’d keep you around. Hurrying to your car, you were quickly on your way to the training grounds, doing your best to follow the rules of the road in a speedy manner. 

It was like the universe was set on punishing you for something today as you huffed annoyingly as traffic came to a stop. You watched the time tick by, becoming later and later as the seconds passed. You fought to resist rolling your eyes as you watched a horse and buggy trot past you, but your annoyance had reached its peak as you failed to keep your eyes from rolling.

With traffic now moving again, you went as fast as you legally could to reach the training grounds before your new job ended before you could even start. You sighed loudly in your car as you reached your destination and quickly found your parking spot near the front door. 

You hurriedly grabbed your things and rushed inside, practically out of breath as you explained to the receptionist who you were and what you were doing here. He gave you directions towards the medical staff’s offices and you were on your way, not wanting to be any later than you already were.

Just as you turned the last corner, a body collided with yours, sending your things to the ground. You didn’t bother looking up at the person who ran into you as you quickly bent down to gather things. Just as you went to reach for your phone, the other person’s hand grabbed it for you. 

“I am so so sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be coming this way,” a soft voice broke you from your thoughts, finally gaining your attention for the first time. You looked up from where you were hunched over on the ground, making eye contact with Lia Wälti. You felt nervous holding eye contact with her, you knew who she was but seeing her in person changed everything for you.

You quickly stood up before taking your phone from the midfielder’s hands, mumbling a quiet “thank you.” 

“Are you new? I would have remembered seeing you here before,” the footballer asked softly as her eyes stayed locked with yours.

“Um, yeah. I’m one of the new PTs. I’m Y/n,” you spoke as you checked the time on your phone seeing that you were at least thirty minutes late.

“Right, they told us we were getting someone new. C’mon, I’ll show you where all the offices are,” Lia offered before turning to go back the way she was originally coming from.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts before rushing to catch up with her. The short walk to the medical staff area was spent in silence as you went over different excuses you may be able to use in an attempt to not lose the job you haven’t started.

“Here we are,” Lia spoke as you both came to a stop in front of a door that read “medical staff.” 

You sent the footballer a small smile before moving to open the door. Before you could get through the threshold, Lia’s hand reached out to grab your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

“Would you like to get coffee or something sometime,” the midfielder smiled as a light blush coated her cheeks.

“I’d love that,” you respond with a small smile, handing your phone back to Lia to put her number in your phone. You were already late and if they were going to fire you on the first date, at least you got a date out of it. 

Lia handed your phone back before leaving you standing in the middle of the door. You could hear voices from inside the office that pulled you from your thoughts. You quickly shook your head before heading into the offices, mentally hoping that you would be able to keep your job which would mean seeing Lia more often.

[johnkahner]

Curious question, can you write a scenario where the reader goes on a mission to find Smoke and finds the Dark Smoke who wants to claim the reader as his own?

AN: I think this one is my longest story yet. My second time writing for Smoke, and it was fun. I hope you all enjoy it. Not proof read.

Notes: Gender-Neutral Reader and Dark!Smoke

Kuai Liang had requested you to join him for some tea. His facial expression was making you feel uneasy. You accepted the offer wondering what was bothering him. You knew Smoke went off on a mission to find some new recruits for the Shirai Ryu. 

Both being seated at a table with some oolong tea and a variety of berries in a small bowl as the refreshments. A few minutes of silence goes by, and Kuai Liang looks a bit uncomfortable. You began to nibble at a strawberry not sure what to say to the fiery man.  

He calmly says your name, “There’s been no word from my brother. I’m not sure what happened to him nor where he is exactly.” Your eyes go wide, but he continues to speak. “I cannot afford to leave right now. We never know when an attack from the Lin Kuei may occur.” He places his tea cup on the table. “Is there anything I can do to help find Tomas?” You ask in a voice full of worry. 

He nods, “Yes, I was about to ask if you could go on a mission to find him. I’ll send a small group of people with you to aid in your search.” 

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you Kuai Liang.” 

“Thank you. He’s the only family I have left. Well, besides you of course.”

“I could say the same about you two as well.” 

The two of you share a smile. He stands up, and offers you a hand to help you stand as well. “I’ll get everything prepared and set off as soon as I can tomorrow.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The small search party split up at one of the last known locations of Smoke. You walk towards a dark cave. It was currently dark out, and you thought this would be an alright spot to set up camp for the night. 

After getting the area set up you sit next to the fire. Eyes closed. You begin to feel the presence of another living being in this cave. You thought it may be a bear or something, and right now you don’t really feel like investigating. 

Footsteps approach you from behind. You feel tense. Slowly turning around your eyes widen to see the ninja you were looking for. You quickly stand up, and rush over to him. “Tomas,” You pull him into a quick hug, “We were worried about you!” His arms pull you closer to his chest. 

Something feels wrong. You realize that there’s the smell of blood on him. He seems to notice this. “Don’t worry. It’s not mine.” He says with a dark chuckle. You froze. He was acting differently from what you were used to. 

He pulls away to look at you. His eyes are dark. You back away from him slowly. He steps closer to you with each step. You run away from him. In the direction from where he came. You were running as fast as you could. Panting. Exhausted. This wasn’t the Smoke you knew. This has to be someone else. 

The smell of blood gets stronger. And stronger. You don’t know what’s happening. All you could think about is getting away from this monster, and telling Kuai Liang what’s happened. As you continue to run, you trip over something. You fall to the ground with your eyes closed. 

When you open them you are greeted by the face of a corpse. It’s not just any corpse either. It’s one of the people that joined you to help find Tomas. You place your hand over your mouth to hide any scream or shriek that would escape from your lips. 

He walks up to you. “Darling. Why are you running from me?” He bends down to pick you up, and get you away from the corpse. “I’m only doing this for you. I love you. I love you so much” He practically growls at you. 

“You belong to me and only me. I will get rid of anyone that gets in my way, or tries to take you away from me.”

You’re scared. You miss the old Tomas you grew up with, and right now you are only thinking about Kuai Liang. He’s going to worry about you both now. Not only is his brother nowhere to be found, but so is a close friend.

[meanbossart]

I finally thought of a question! What does your Astarion think of all that's happened to him, now that it's all Over, and what does Drow think about what he knows about Astarion? Does he ever contemplate and compare, does he have passing thoughts like "Oh yeah, he told me this" brought on by nothing in particular? If Drow or Shadowheart were to bring it up either when drinking, or after a heated moment, what would happen?

Thank you so much for your art and your words! Your handle on Drow made me really crack open my Tav like a nut

AND WHAT A GOOD QUESTION IT IS.

(I use some dialogue excerpts from for A Novel Experience here to illustrate my points that some might consider to be spoilery, I don't think it's stuff that would affect one's reading enjoyment too much. Still, just figured I would mention it for anyone who minds it.)

In regards to Astarion, it is understandably complicated. I think the way he's found to get by so far is by not dwelling at all in what has happened. He's tried to turn the symbolic new leaf that night in the cemetery and likes to think of himself as not only freed, but a new man open to what life has to offer him and unburdened by his past - when memories rush back, he pushes them away. When something bothers him for reasons that relate to his past experience, he tries to push past the discomfort because he doesn't want to be defined by it. He is fairly self-conscious of being seen as a weakling or a victim, especially when he's constantly confronted by DU drow's utter indifference to his own past.

He has, by all intends and purposes, done well. He understands that he's a grown man who's been given a second chance at un-life by an exceptionally lucky turn of events, he absolutely does not want to waste a second more of his own time by being sullen, broken, or guilt-striken. He thrives for as long as his past doesn't directly confront him - but when it does, the avoidance catches up and he very easily loses his cool.

His feelings regarding the decisions he made underneath Cazador's palace are mostly rigid. He's happy to not have Ascended and content that the spawn were set free, but he does not like to dwell on what their lives may be like moving forward and, if ever discussing it, does so with callousness and indifference, shutting down the conversation before it can begin. While he doesn't bask in the feeling, he does take the smallest bit of pride in the fact that he has sacrificed eternal power for the freedom of thousands - when doubt arises and he's haunted with the could-have-beens, he soothes himself with the fact that his sacrifice had a purpose.

DU drow has no moral quandries with what Astarion did while under Cazador's control or regard for the people he victimized at all, but he dwells constantly on the suffering he's endured. He flip-flops between thinking of Astarion as a perfectly capable individual and someone who is overly sensitive and finicky the moment something upsets him - someone who needs protection. He has a grand hero's complex about him and at times difficulty trusting Astarion's capacity to make his own choices - since he didn't have the opportunity for such a long time. He isn't controlling, but Astarion knows him well enough to read the doubt in his face even when he's quiet about it.

Interestingly enough, this seems to mostly apply to when Astarion's ideas go against his own, or make him feel powerless or unneeded in some way or another. He's perfectly happy to go along with his impulses otherwise - even when they seem to be made in bad judgement.

It also applies to intimacy for a while, with DU drow proceeding to avoid sex even after he's rid of his urge - not only because he's still afraid of his own desires, but also because he doesn't trust Astarion to express his agency during the act.

But that's an issue that they solve fairly quickly (well, ten-chapters-in quickly. sixteen if you only count when they first have sex since the events of the game) , especially as Astarion asserts himself as the more dominant half of the relationship.

I don't think either DU drow or Shadowheart have the nerve to use Astarion's actions while enthralled against him. DU drow because he doesn't care or thinks he's held accountable in any way, and Shadowheart because she knows better. That said, things do come up between him and other characters and then - well. He doesn't deal well with it at all:

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello amazing blogger! I've been drowning in WIPs and rl chaos lately, and really need to take care of myself for a bit.

Do you mind doing a Daemon blurb where he tries to make her feel better with slow, intimate sex at noticing she's depressed?

Thank you, have a lovely day 💐

Lies Are Treason

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The fire that drew your husband to you in the first place is now dwindling, and that was a serious problem.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Opens with violence, fem!reader, wife!reader, soft!daemon T_T i love him, reader is not having a nice time, smut (reader kinda cries mid fucking and gets emotional, praise kink, bratty!reader, cock warming, cream pie), typos, etc.

A/N: hello my lover <3 i give you kiss. i am honored that you reached out to me during a time like this. i often wonder what value my fanfics hold in the grand scheme of the world other than silencing the loud romance ideas i have with fictional men i will never meet T_T, but then i think about how reading and writing fanfics makes me feel happy, and so i only hope my brain farts do something similar for someone else yeah may the imaginary dick imma give you suffice to alleviate a fraction of your heavy thoughts HAHAAHAH

Daemon knew.

He felt it in the way he woke up earlier than his lover, the way he had to slow his pace as not to leave her behind, how he had to chose what she would wear, and now, how he had to look for her, since he'd no idea where she gone.

There was something wrong. Something was bothering his wife and someone somewhere was going to pay for it.

In this moment, it was your handmaiden who was quivering in fear with Dark Sister between her eyes.

"My lord," she wept, "I- I-"

"You are her helper, are you not?" Daemon seethed, stepping closer to the poor, innocent servant girl who had fallen on her hind, terrified by her master's cold accusations, "your job is to keep my lady wife in your sight and attend to her every need."

"My prince," she shudders, raising her hands, "the princess is not kept by anyone-" tears streak her face, "-you know this."

Daemon hums deeply, moving stray hair away from the girl's face with his blade, "and yet the fact that you do not know her whereabouts enrages me still."

"My prince!" a separate panicked voice calls.

"What?!" Daemon quips, not prying his eyes on his target.

"The guards say they've seen the princess in the dragon pit."

Daemon turns away from the quivering girl, to the other that was fighting to save her fellow servant, "and you understand that lying to me is treason."

Dark Sister is upon the other's neck now.

Daemon moves closer to her, annoyance and boredom lacing his expression, "if I find your information false, not only will I return fucking fed up, but I will have the head of the guards who muttered the nonsense to you."

Daemon watches her squirm underneath his weapon.

He raises his brows, "well? The guards names?"

"Oswald and James, your grace," she shudders, cheeks stained with tears.

Daemon pulls his sword away and tuts, "you better not be wrong."

One could only imagine the collective relief across the castle after Daemon made it to the pit and saw who he had been searching for all along.

I hear a deep sigh and turn over my shoulder.

"You know I nearly killed your handmaiden a few moments ago."

My hand that was stroking Caraxes' face stills as I look off to my husband who was walking over, "what? Why?!"

"Well," he starts, only continuing once he was next to me, stroking Caraxes all the same. His dragon snorts hotly in greeting as Daemon continues, "my wife had gone missing."

I don't even roll my eyes at him as I look away and mutter, "overreacting, as always." I gently stroke the scales beneath my palm, "you will apologize with tears.'

I only turn to Daemon when he grabs my hand. His face is tense and his grip on me is firm, "at least I'm in character."

I knit my brows at him, tilting my head, "are you saying I am not?"

I turn from Caraxes and walk backwards until I can lean against the creature's large body. Daemon does not release my hand and follows me as I do so.

"I am bossing you around, clearly," I state.

"Yet there is no grit to it," he retorts.

Before I could respond to what my husband told me, Caraxes, who had been lying on the ground, begins to rumble softly. He lift his head, shaking it before craning his neck to look at his master.

The two stare at each other, wordlessly communicating, then the dragon pulls his head back down and grunts.

When Daemon turns back to me, he sighs, muttering something softly in High Valyrian.

I attempt to decipher the words, "Caraxes is not feeling good?"

"No," Daemon retorts, reaching his hand out to my cheek, "it is you who is not feeling good."

I stare at the man who inches nearer up until our chests are pressed together. Unable to bare his gaze, I turn away and nudge Caraxes with my elbow, "snitch."

Daemon sighs, leaning down as his hands snake around me. His face finds its spot at the crook of my neck, and by the curve of my shoulder, he presses a kiss. He rubs his cheek against mine as he whines, "you think I do not already know?"

I feel disarmed by his words, so much so I shift my weight and lean fully against him, pressing my face on his shoulders as my hands cling on his sides, "I hoped you would continue to ignore it."

"Nothing was ignored," he pulls me closer to him, propping his chin on the top of my head, "a ridiculous thought really," he tightens his arms around me, "why do you think I agreed to letting you drink until you could not walk the other night?"

I hum, tilting my head up so I could brush my lips on his neck, "I thought you just wanted your wife to relive her youthful alcoholism."

He draws shapeless patterns on my back, "I knew you needed a release."

"Release he said," I chuckle, "ironic when I took in so much wine that my belly swelled like I was pregnant."

He does not respond to this.

A moment of silence passes after.

Daemon begins to rub my back and I feel like I could fall asleep in his arms. I close my eyes and pull away from him however, hands instinctively finding their way to my husbands shoulders.

His hands are firmly gripping on my sides as I feel him lean down and press his forehead against mine.

I rub my thumbs on the fabric of his clothing and simply savor his presence.

"Speak to me," he whispers like a plea.

I raise my chin, eyes still closed. I grab his face and kiss him; warmth envelopes me the moment I do so. His hands force me closer and his lips are hungrier than mine. When I pull away, he chases me with one last peck and places another on my cheek.

"I do not know what to tell you, Daemon," I mumble, finally opening my eyes.

Daemon pulls back, looking down at me with concern, as if trying to will words out of his mouth.

"I just... fell unlike myself, and even Caraxes seemed desperate about it." I brush his silver locks behind his ear as I mutter, "I don't know. I am nearly as bad at this as you are."

His hands catch my cheeks. He caresses the area before he slides his palms all the way back down to my waist. He gently rocks me against him, averting his eyes in contemplation. He kneads on my flesh as he decides, "then let me do something that I am good at."

He turns back to me as I link my fingers behind his nape, "and what are you good at, husband?"

"Releasing into my pretty wife as she cries out my name," he sighs as he bends to kiss my neck.

I moan when he nibbles my skin, "Daemon."

He responds by muttering my name as he pulls away. His eyes locks on mine, as if searching for permission.

I place a hand on his cheek and brush my thumb on his lips, "take me back to our quarters."

Without another word, he grabs the hand on his cheek and drags me away.

The very moment we are in our chambers, he closes the door and grabs me, attacking me with kisses like a man starved.

Daemon pushes me backwards, fingers nimbly making its way down the laces on the back of my dress, up until my calves hit the bed.

Before he pushes me on the mattress, he pulls my dress down, dropping to his knees. He kisses my sternum on the way as he works on getting me out of my clothing. I bite my lip as I look down at him.

I lightly comb my fingers on his scalp as he bites my thighs while urging me out of my dress.

"Daemon."

He looks up at me.

I grab his cheeks, as he stands. Once he is towering over me again, I begin to undo his own clothing, pulling him out of his tunic and sinking down to free him of his trousers. He doesn't grant me the courtesy of biting his thighs as he pulls away, kicking his pants off and grabs me, pushing me back on the bed.

He allows me to crawl up on my elbows until my head is on the pillows. He doesn't waste time and gets on top me, positioning himself in between my legs.

He hums in appreciation of the heat against him. He praises me in High Valyrian and grabs my thighs as he rubs against me, "so pretty and warm.

I groan at the feel of him grinding on my sensitive nub. He slows as he sinks down on my shoulder, peppering kisses all over my skin. I wrap my legs around him as I dig my fingers into the roots of his hair.

He props his hands to the side and bucks his hips against me. I whine, pressing my lips on any part of his skin that I can reach.

"Daemon," I mutter against him, "you feel so good."

He sucks on my skin then bites down, making my stomach flutter. He connects our lips together and squeezes my sides, "I'll make you feel better, my love."

After saying this, Daemon sheathes his hard length that was wet with my slick. I roll my eyes back at the feel of him stretching me out.

He grunts, thrusting shallowly, but then stills as he sings me praises, "so nice and ready for me, sweet girl."

"Always ready for you," I mewl, licking his lower lip before grazing it between my teeth.

Daemon rubs my sides as he moans at the feeling of my bites.

He begins to move against me, but he barely pulls out, as if fearing the loss of me. I bring my hands to his hips and dig my nails in, "more, more, more."

He shushes me, then clicks his tongue, "so impatient."

"Break me, Daemon," I mutter, helplessly, moving my hips in sync with his, "please, I need you to fuck me."

He hisses when I rip at his skin. He pushes his face against mine, forcing my cheeks on the pillow, "behave, little one. I will not be bullied by someone who squirms at the very feel of my touch."

I whine again at both his words and the feel of his mouth on my jaw. I half expect a punishing thrust to be had. When he does not relent his excruciatingly slow pace, I begin to beg, "Daemon, please, please, please! I want to-"

His hands forcing my wrists to the sides shut me up with a gasp.

Daemon hovers his face above mine, and I nearly choke at the sight of him, "I told you to behave."

He rolls his hips into me, still so leisurely but so deliciously that I cannot contain my moan. Yet it's not enough. I want him to ruin me.

I whine out his name again, "Daemon please."

He sighs at the sounds I make and pushes himself up on his arms, "you know better than anyone that no one can change my mind once its made."

I chew on my lips as I look up at him. My desperate need of him makes my eyes begin to water. My hands dart up to his cheeks as I complain, "I can change your mind, my love. Please, please."

Daemon's dark eyes take in my wanton figure. He leans into my pulse and kisses it, "the world has broken you enough," he draws out a long breath when I clench around him desperately.

When he curses in High Valyrian and he sinks back down against my face, I mistake it as defeat. I seal him against me tightly and nip at his neck. I find myself ceasing my nibbling when I hear him whisper against my ear, "just let me love you tonight, my dear. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Daemon then, although still brutally slow, begins to thrust more thoroughly, pulling out farther and plunging deeper. The sensation has me reeling and my stomach begins to tense.

"My pretty wife," Daemon groans, rutting against me, "so lovely, so soft, and all mine."

My nails find his skin again, scratching all the way to the center of his back.

He moans sucking at my neck as he continues his ministrations.

"I would burn the whole world if that's what it took to mend your heart."

I moan his name in response, voice not ceasing as it draws out pleasured noises. I look to him, trying to find his face, but he's too lost in his movements and too snug against me.

I screw my eyes shut when he finally begins to quicken.

I squeal before I speak, "yes, Daemon," I grunt, "so good- like that- more."

He pants, hand coming up to my neck, "I would do anything for you," he kisses my jaw, "you know this, right?"

I whine as I nod, "yes, Daemon, yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"So, let me do this. Let me take care of you," he mutters, "do not withdraw from me again."

When I open my eyes and catch his gaze, my throat goes dry and my eyes begin to spill with water. I groan out his name in a manner I am so not sure of.

He kisses the tears that begin to fall down my face and snaps his hips quicker, "take solace in me the way I do you."

My voice is too preoccupied with whines that I do not get to reply.

The bed begins to squeak and knock on the wall at his ferosity.

Daemon seals my whimpers against his lips as pressure begins to build within me. My lashes, dampened with tears, begin to flutter at the feel of my husband. At the rate he was going, my release was swift and inevitable. He drags his lips up to my forehead, kissing my nose and eyelids tenderly as he does, juxtaposing the roughness of his severity in my core.

I come around him all at once, growling his name in pleasure, tensing tightly then turning into putty.

Daemon mutters my name as well, over and over, until I feel his hotness spread inside me. I nearly choke on my spit at the feel of his unrelenting snapping even after the fact.

Just when I think he will not stop, he begins to grow sloppy. I sigh as he eventually halts. By then, I am plainly aware of the feel of his seed overflowing, though he is still snug within me.

Although I am utterly boneless beneath him, I manage to tighten my limbs around frame, absolutely unwilling to free him from where he was. The last of his movement fade and I fell utterly spent of his love.

Daemon presses a kiss on my cheek, hands coming to my sides, "I am here, my love. I will not leave."

Without warning, my lips begin to quiver.

I am suddenly overcome with emotion. I begin to feel my throat and chest tighten as sadness creeps out of me, finally seeing its chance.

I force myself not to cry, but I am powerless when Daemon begins to hush me, "sweet girl, it'll be alright." I am broken by the time he repeats, "I am here."

I bring my hands to his shoulder blades and knead at the area, "I need you, Daemon. I can't be without you, ever. I love you so much."

He kisses me as he nods, "I know. I would go mad without you by my side," he kisses me again, drawing out a long breath before continuing, "I love you like I have not known love before."

He allows me to empty my sorrows against him, comforted by his mere presence in the silence.

Sobs beginning to die down, I turn to him and bring my palms to his cheeks. He lifts his head to look down upon me and brushes his nose against mine.

I repeat, as if I hadn't made myself clear, "I love you."

"I love you," he repeats not a second too late, then kisses my lips, "I love you so fucking much."

I nod rapidly, kissing every inch of his face, "thank you for this, my love," I sigh and readjust my legs around him, "I did not know I needed it."

The vibrations of his laughter cause me to whimper. He places a kiss on the top of my head, "spoiled brats hardly ever do."

"I'm not spoiled," I furrow my brows and pout, "you're the one who grew up..." I moan, "a prince."

His minute hip movements tease out another sound out of me.

I whine in protest, "Daemon, please, I can't."

He clicks his tongue, "see? Pretty girls like you should take what they are given graciously without complaints," he brushes his nose against me, "especially when it is a generous gift from her prince."

I release a sigh once he ends his torture.

"Still," Daemon smirks, "I could not bare to make my wife cry even more."

"You can make me cry, if you want," I mumble as I kiss his shoulder, "just let me stay like this for a while," I rub his back, "I like it when I'm full of you."

Daemon relaxes on top of me and I relish the weight of him.

"I like it when you're full of me too."

[cherryxblossxms]

Masturbation May - Day 3b: In the Shower (Satan)

A/N: Satan was suggested for day 3 by an anonymous sender! I couldn't quite decide the direction I wanted for this initially but finally just settled on some good ol stress relief via orgasm lol.

Featuring: GN reader || Satan x reader

Warnings: masturbation; some jealous Satan; mentions of marking and breeding (not specific to reader); just some much-needed self-assurance and stress relief in the shower~

Word count: 1411

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Satan just needed some kind of stress relief. He knew it was just his temper, easier and quicker to rile up thanks to his sin. But it seemed like everything was going wrong lately, getting on his nerves and pushing him to the edge of exploding. Lucifer was yelling at him about something or other, his favorite cat café had to close early because of an emergency with the owner, and his brothers were all getting into silly, nonsense arguments with each other.

Normally, these things alone wouldn't be enough to make him snap completely. But to top it all off, you had gone on a trip to the Human Realm with Solomon two weeks ago, supposedly for some training and gathering some items specific to your home. In your absence, the House of Lamentation always fell into chaos, no one to buffer the ridiculousness and provide a voice of reason.

Satan knew he shouldn't blame you, or use you as a means of resolving everyone's problems. But your presence was like a magic balm, easing his spirit and always managing to wrestle the others into compliance. And now all this pent up stress was leaving aches in his muscles and gave him a near constant migraine.

He couldn't even focus on his books, attempting to read through various tomes on his ever-lasting quest for the perfect curse for Lucifer, but realizing halfway through that he wasn't absorbing any of the information. He snapped the heavy book shut in anger, sending out a plume of dust that covered his upper half. Satan coughed and set the book aside.

Great, now he was both dirty and angry.

Trying to keep his boiling rage contained, he quickly gathered clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom, hoping against all odds that no one else was in there, or he'd really snap for good. Thankfully, the room was clear, and he quickly undressed as the water grew hot.

Once he was in the water, he sighed, the heat helping to relieve his aching muscles. Although he wouldn't admit it, he often wondered about taking up an offer from Asmo for a spa treatment. He was sure he needed it, and that it'd probably do wonders for his temperament, at least for a little while. Relaxation of the body is supposed to help relaxation of the mind, he figured.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as his now unbusied thoughts kept going back to all the annoying things happening lately. He just wanted one day of peace, of not being nagged by Lucifer for sneaking in a stray cat, or not hearing the constant whine of Levi hounding Mammon for his money. And thinking of you, he hated being away from you for so long. It was unfair that you had left him, not to mention traveling with Solomon.

Although he was usually secure in his relationship with you, something still bothered him about you being alone with the Witty Sorcerer for so long. Not that Satan didn't trust you, he knew you would never cheat on him. But he wasn't always sure he trusted Solomon and his flirty, flowery words.

Just thinking of it made his skin itch, picturing Solomon trying to court you, to take you from him. Even though he knew he was completely blowing it out of proportion, the thoughts came unbidden to him. The next time he saw you, Satan resolved he'd have to leave his mark on you, to ensure no one, especially Solomon, could ever mistake who you belong to.

The more he thought of marking you, the faster his blood pumped, something ancient and instinctual waking up in his veins. He wanted to cover you in his scent, make sure all anyone else could smell for miles was him. He wanted to leave his fang marks in your skin, leave dark hickeys across your neck and chest, somewhere highly visible so no one could mistake his intentions.

Even better, he wanted to mark you with his seed, cover you outside but especially inside, as deep as he could manage, make sure it could never leave you. It didn't matter if you could get pregnant or not, the deep animalistic need still roared inside him to do it anyway. That final thought sent a throbbing pulse down to his dick, and Satan didn't even realize he was completely hard until his hand was already subconsciously wrapping around his cock and stroking.

He wanted you there, he needed to show you that he was all you ever needed. He was your mate, your lover, and everything you ever wanted, he would provide to you as long as you'd let him. He would show you, he could pleasure you a thousand times over with the way he knows your body, so that no one, especially Solomon, could ever compare.

Satan cursed. Now he was so hard it hurt, needing you in his arms, and on his cock, immediately. The rest of his body was relaxed but now all the ache sat in his groin, begging to be inside of you. You weren't due to be home for another week, and he knew there was no ignoring his erection at this point, so he settled for relieving himself for now, already formulating a plan of attack (of the pleasurable variety) for once you returned.

He shut the water off and quickly stepped out, thankful that you two kept a spare bottle of lube under the bathroom sink. He poured some on his hand as he re-entered the shower and continued stroking. He felt ridiculous, all pent up over his dumb worries and demonic needs, and wanted nothing more than to drown his worries in the pleasures of your body. Only you seemed to know how to truly relax him, but a fantasy would have to do.

He could just picture it, the moment you came back from your trip, how he'd pull you into his room and make sure you didn't go anywhere until you were thoroughly pleasured and marked by him. He wanted to taste your lips, feel your warm, bare skin against his, hear your affirmations that he was the only one for you. The next time you saw Solomon, Satan wanted it to be obvious that he knew your body inside and out and that Solomon wasn't nearly worthy enough to be your mate.

Now fueled by anger and his lust for you, his thoughts were really letting loose. He wanted you sprawled across his bed, legs tossed over his shoulders as he pounded into you, or maybe he'd have you ride him until you couldn't hold yourself up anymore. Maybe to reassure his worries, you'd take his cock down your throat, knowing how gorgeous you look when you struggle to fit him in your mouth.

He pumped his cock faster, using one hand to hold his base steady and add more pressure, chasing that sweet high. As water droplets dripped from his hair onto his body, Satan imagined pulling you into the shower with him, picking you up to fuck you against the wall, letting your moans and screams of his name echo in the bathroom to ensure everyone in the house knew exactly who was pleasuring you. He'd fuck you as long and as hard as you could stand it, making sure to reach the furthest depths within you, as long as you wanted him.

Satan was now panting as his climax approached, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He used the last of his sense to picture bringing you to climax, eager to cum deep inside you, release all his stress into you, and feel you clench around his cock and milk him dry. Just dreaming of achieving that pushed him into that pleasurable zone, and he groaned deep in his throat as he released the first ropes of cum, moving his hand up to work the head of his cock, drawing out every bit of pleasure and cum he could.

He came a surprising amount, likely from lack of release while you'd been gone, and he felt a little sad about the waste as it washed down the drain. But now that his mind was cleared, and his body was well and truly relaxed, he couldn't wait for your return. He was going to make sure everyone knew that you were his, and relieve all his stress with you the way only you could do.

[inthe-dark-tonight]

And All the Stars Align

chapter one: across the room, your silhouette

din djarin x princess!reader series

chapter two

summary: your mother seeks out the well known mandalorian, din djarin, to help your planet by fighting in a duel. what starts as a strong distaste for the armored man grows into something more.

word count: 1.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no use of y/n, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers, some helmetless din, no physical descriptions of reader other than clothing a few times, no mentions of age gap so read however you’d like, not really that many warnings yet :)

notes: this is the first thing i’ve ever written, i’ve just been really nervous to post it but here it is!!! i also was slightly inspired by padme and anakin’s relationship in episode 2 & 3 so you may see some similarities here and there. this will be multiple chapters, not sure how many yet but know that it will be quite a few lol. thank you to my loves @shatteredbaby & @javiscigarette for beta reading and brainstorming with me mwah. also @pr0ximamidnight for listening to me ramble about this fic and also encouraging me to keep writing ily

He’s sitting in the cantina on Nevarro minding his business, when he suddenly feels a presence behind him.

“Can I help you?” His deep voice booms through the modulator on his helmet. He doesn’t bother to turn around.

The man standing close behind him clears his throat before speaking. “I’m visiting from the planet Xeron. I was sent by the queen in search of a Mandalorian named Din Djarin.” He pauses, hesitating for a moment. “I was told he could be found here.”

Din turns around in his seat and props his elbow up to lean back on the counter nonchalantly. “You’ve found him.” He says in a flat tone. Although his face is covered with a beskar helmet, his voice is enough to make anyone intimidated. “You have one minute to explain what you’re here for.”

The advisor swallows hard and clears his throat. “I- uh,”

“Fifty-six seconds.” the Mandalorian says, his voice coming out deep and monotone.

“Our planet, Xeron, is having a quarrel of sorts with our sister planet, Arkam, and we need help. We need your help.” He hesitated for a quick moment, a bit flustered. “Word around the inner rim is that you’re a great fighter, you’ve taken down a mudhorn, a kryat dragon, the list goes on and on. We’re desperately in need of someone to fight. Someone who will win.”

“What’s in it for me?”

A week later the Mandalorian is on his way to Xeron. Your mother, the queen, insisted that he come a week early to settle in before the duel. She had said we should lend him our hospitality for what he’s agreed to do for our planet, so there’s going to be a welcome dinner hosted tonight when he arrives.

You’re currently in your room getting ready to leave when there’s a knock on your door. “Come in.” The door opens a crack and you see Jem poke her head in.

Jem is your closest friend, though she’s more of an assistant of sorts. You don’t like to think of her that way, she’s just your friend that also happens to keep watch over you and help you out with anything you might need.

“Are you almost ready? Your mother is already in the grand hall awaiting your arrival.” She raises her brow at you, knowing that you always tend to be late.

“Yes just- give me a second. I’ll be right out.” You smile before she shuts the door behind her.

You turn towards your mirror and take a deep breath. Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you haven’t attended banquets for visitors in the past. You run your gloved hands over your floor length dress and take one last look in the mirror before turning to leave.

When you open the door Jem is waiting there for you, also wearing a long elegant dress for the occasion. She turns to walk down the hall and you quickly follow.

“Are you curious to see what he’s like?” She asks as you make your way towards the grand hall.

You look at her slightly confused “….who?”

She blinks at you, waiting for you to say something else. “The Mandalorian, you know, the one your mother hired to fight in the duel?” She gives you an odd look before the two of you step into the elevator. “I’ve heard he’s quiet, a little mysterious. I guess we’ll see for ourselves.” A smirk grows on her face as she says the words.

When the elevator doors open again, you quickly round the corner to see that the doors to the great hall are wide open and the room is flooded with people. Some are gathered standing in large groups, others are sitting at the large tables spread around the room. You look around the room and see your mother through the crowd, sitting in her usual spot. You walk towards her smiling here and there at guests as you pass by.

“You’re here! We can get started finally.” She gestures something to one of the royal guards, seconds later you hear a loud noise signaling that dinner will be served shortly. In the next couple of minutes everyone is finally seated, Jem sitting next to you. You glance around noticing that someone’s missing, the guest of honor. Great first impression, you think to yourself. If he can’t even arrive on time, how’s he going to win this fight?

You can see your mother glancing around the room frantically. “Where is he?” She mumbles to herself. The guests are chatting at a low volume, probably wondering what’s going on as well.

All of a sudden one of the doors to the royal hall opens, everyone’s head snaps towards that direction to get a look. As you look around the room, everyone’s quiet and still. It’s like the world has stopped. You hear heavy steps growing closer and what sounds like something clanking. Finally you look towards the door and your eyes land on him. The Mandalorian.

He’s covered head to toe in beskar armor, and the visor on his helmet creates a t shape. There’s a sway in his step, he walks with confidence and you can feel the air in the room has changed just from his presence. Your mother stands from her chair as he gets closer, and everyone else in the room follows. You’re so mesmerized by him and the confidence in each step he takes that you end up being the last to stand, eyes never leaving his captivating form. When he gets to you and your mother he bows his head, leaving your mother ecstatic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our guest of honor, Din Djarin.” She gestures towards him. “The Mandalorian.” the room applauds.

He nods and takes a seat next to your mother, everyone following her lead to sit. Your mother looks at one of the royal guards and droids start coming from the kitchen with plates full of food, placing them at every table.

Your mother turns her head to Din “Thank you so much for being here tonight, I’m glad you could make it a week early. We want to show our thanks, and how greatly appreciative we are.” she smiles at him.

Din turns his head towards her and nods. “Thank you for your hospitality.” His voice is deep coming through his modulator, it sends a chill down your spine. You’re still staring at him when your mother starts to speak.

“This is my daughter.” Your mother fully sits back in her chair so he can look past her and see you properly.

He turns his head towards you. “Princess.” He nods his head again. What Jem heard is true. He really doesn’t say much, but you feel squeamish under his gaze.

“We really are more grateful than you could ever imagine.” Your mother smiles again. “Please! Help yourself!” Your mother gestures to the table full of food.

Jem nudges your shoulder and you turn to her, finally breaking your gaze away from Din. She’s smirking “I told you” she whispers before reaching to fill her plate.

You’re trying not to stare at this point, just looking out the corner of your eye. You pile a few things onto your plate and before you can take a bite you see his hand lift up to his helmet. You hear a hissing sound as he lifts it off his head.

You snap your head to look over at him and you’re absolutely stunned, almost breathless as his profile comes into view. The strong outline of his nose and plush pink lips immediately catch your attention. You don’t think you’ve ever laid your eyes on someone as beautiful as him. Still taking in his features, your mouth slightly opens in awe. His large brown eyes, the crease between his brows, the way his curls fall perfectly over his forehead even after having a helmet on.

He turns his head towards you, almost like he could feel your gaze. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you quickly turn back to look at your plate in embarrassment. You can still feel his gaze burning through you, your body starting to heat up. Through the corner of your eye you can see him staring now, you lift your head and turn to look at him again. This time he turns away, quickly glancing back at you for only a split second before focusing on his plate. It’s almost… shy. Cute, you think.

“I didn’t know Mandalorians could remove their helmets?” Your mother asks him.

Din clears his throat as he glances at your mother. “The rules aren’t… as strict as they once were.” He states.

His voice sounds even more heavenly without being filtered through the modulator. It makes your skin tingle.

The rest of the dinner you don’t dare to look at him. Your mother dismisses everyone and people get up to gather and chat again. Everyone wants to speak to Din, he’s never not crowded by guests. He put his helmet back on at this point after dinner.

Jem pops up beside you. “Wow, I knew he’d be popular tonight, being the guest of honor and all but… he really can’t catch a break”

“Yeah.” you’re trying to seem nonchalant as you stare him down from across the room.

“Have you gotten a chance to speak with him?” She looks over at you.

“No!” Your head snaps towards her and Jem’s brow raises at your tone. “I mean, no. He’s been occupied basically all night.” You’re looking back towards where he stands.

“What’s there for me to say anyway?” You glance over at her “Am I supposed to thank him? However much my mother’s paying him won’t be worth anything if he doesn’t make it out.” You look back out into the crowd of people and you’re unable to spot him.

“Yeah, I guess.” She pauses for a moment. “Well I need to go find your mother, I told her I’d help her with something. See you later?”

You nod and watch her disappear into the pool of people laughing and talking loudly.

You hear someone say your name in a deep voice from behind you.

“Princess.”

thank you for reading lmk what you think & my asks are open to chat :) xo

np tagging some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @javiscigarette @gracieheartspedro @cannolighost @eliza-8 @hearteyesforjoel @tieronecrush @daydreamingmiller @pamasaur

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 26, Unsurprising - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of sex, violence.

Word Count: 894

Previously On...: Bucky rejected your sexual advances, but Nat texted you, so at least you have that going for you.

A/N: ANSWER TIME

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You stabbed your finger on the button to dial Nat’s number, the brevity of her texting style leaving you with more questions than answers. You were terrified it was going to go to voicemail before she finally picked up.

“‘Bout time,” Nat answered instead of a greeting. “How long did it take before you and Barnes got naked again? I’ve got money riding on it.”

“Jesus Christ, Nat,” you said, not wanting to waste time playing this game. “We didn’t, okay? Now tell me what the hell’s going on!”

“I told you in the texts,” she said, “and if you’d bothered to reply, I’d have answered any questions you may have had.”

You didn’t respond to that, waiting for Natasha get over your lack of response and start talking. “Fine,” she eventually capitulated. “Sam called Steve, told him about A.J., who is going to be okay, by the way– just a long recovery; and how he needed to go home. He said he didn’t want to leave you, and asked Steve to send down coverage.”

“Yeah, I knew that already,” you said, though you were relieved to hear the news about A.J.. “What else?”

“Well, obviously Barnes volunteered,” she said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world, “but Steve wasn’t having it, because he didn’t want to spring Barnes on you without clearing it with you first.” 

“That was thoughtful of him,” you said.

“Hmm,” said Nat cryptically. “Anyway, I was going to come down, myself. Sun and surf and stripping with my best friend? Sounded like a fucking vacation.”

“Natasha,” you warned, urging her to stick to the point. 

She sighed. “Yeah, okay. So, Bucky gets a call from a SHIELD med facility out in Wilmington, Fucking Delaware, of all places.” Nat paused, waiting for you to speak. When you didn’t, she asked: “Care to explain what that was all about, Pocket?”

“Not at this exact moment, Natty,” you said, truly not wanting to get into your surprise pregnancy/miscarriage two-for-one evening. 

You could practically hear Nat’s eyes roll in annoyance at you through the phone– she despised not knowing things, which was what made her such a damned good spy. “Fine. Carthage finds out Bucky’s taken off, and when she asks where he went, Steve tells her he went to be with you, that you needed him. Pocket, this girl fucking flipped her shit. Like, I half expected her to turn green and start growing through her clothes. I’ve never seen anything like it that didn’t involve Bruce Hulking-out,” she told you.

“She was screaming how it wasn’t fair, had some choice words to say about you, which I won’t repeat, because I’m your friend, by the way, then starts talking about how ‘it wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ and ‘this wasn’t what she was promised.’ It was weird. Just… fucking weird. 

“Steve tried to calm her down,” she continued, “but she wasn’t having any of it. Kept saying he ‘didn’t understand,’ and how now she was ‘gonna die,’ and it was all your fault. Steve tried to restrain her, but she clocked him. He needed to call in Thor to help wrangle her. They got her sedated and put her in her room, but when Cho went to check on her a few hours later, she was just… gone. Ransacked her room, punched holes in the walls, packed up all her shit.”

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Nat, this is absolutely beyond. I mean, it’s more than a crush, it’s a fucking obsession.”

“Tell me about it,” Nat agreed. “She left behind her Stark phone, her coms, and her tracking device. Steve and Tony made the decision to list her as AWOL, and they’ve got SHIELD crawling around like ants looking for her, but there’s been no sign of her since.”

You took a shaking breath. “That’s a hell of a lot to take in, Nat.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, and you could hear the smirk in her voice, “that’s not even the best part.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“You have no idea.”

“Out with it, Natalia, I swear!”

Your friend scoffed. “You’re no fun, but fine. You remember our little conversation with Sam, right? After she fucked up the Malaysia mission?”

“Where he said he thought she set them up, yeah.” You remembered, alright, though it felt so long ago now. “And I checked the Tower’s systems; she hadn’t accessed anything she shouldn’t have.”

“Except for Bucky’s files,” Nat clarified to remind you.

“Except for Bucky’s files,” you agreed, not understanding where she was going with this.

“You know how my part was to reach out to my old KGB contacts, see what I could find out from them?” Nat asked, and you grunted in affirmation. 

“Well,” she continued, “I just heard back, not long after I started texting you. Turns out, our BFF didn’t escape from a Hydra base.”

You felt a cold chill go down your spine. “What are you saying, Nat?”

“I’m saying I was given some very interesting security footage,” Nat continued. “Carthage never escaped Hydra, because they willingly let her out.” You let out a shocked gasp, and Nat paused for dramatic effect, making you want to reach through the phone and shake her. “They let her out,” she continued, “with an objective: to bring home the Winter Soldier.”

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