#to them. especially since they were probably a quiet child

[yikesmary]

PREGNANCY CRAVINGS — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where being pregnant comes with its struggles, and one of them just so happens to be the random pregnancy cravings. so, in the middle of the night, you try to sneak out and go to the convenience store nearby and buy something to satisfy your craving. however, your husband wakes up and insists to accompany you—even if he’s barely awake.

notes: the convenience store i've pictured in mind are like the ones i've seen in korea. but i don't really address where this occurs in, so use your imagination!

disclaimer: i'm not pregnant or have been pregnant so everything i write about pregnancy is most likely not true and therefore shouldn't be taken as fact (unless it's true, but make sure it's validated by an actual medical professional).

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“Oh, Cheol, you absolute asshole,”

You tried using all your strength to push your husband’s sleeping figure away from you, the heat coming from his body was too much for you. Trying to move him away was an obstacle, especially because he was working out more as of lately.

But finally, you had managed to cause enough noise in trying to move him that Seungcheol finally moved himself, scooting more onto his side.

You looked down at your pregnant belly and told your unborn child, “All that effort I put into moving him, and all he has to do is move himself?”

Huffing, you stood up and went to your closet, looking for an appropriate shirt to change into in order to go to the convenience store. In hindsight, you could probably have used your phone to order something, but the problem was you didn’t know what you were craving.

You knew that the baby was craving something, but didn’t know what. So, you decided that you were going to walk to the store and let the baby decide while walking through the aisles.

You rummaged through your clothes before going through Seungcheol’s side of the closet. As the pregnancy goes on, you’ve found yourself wearing more of Seungcheol’s clothes since they seemed to fit you better and were comfier than the maternity clothes that you never wore.

"What are you doing?"

You turned around in surprise to see Seungcheol standing, looking quite comfy in his pajama pants and a random old shirt. Being the one for dramatics (which you probably got from your husband), you put your hand on top of where your heart was. "You scared me! I think I almost gave birth then," you said.

He rolled his eyes and then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

"Oh, I was gonna go to the convenience store. The baby wants to eat something," you told him.

"Can't the baby wait for the morning?"

"The baby wants to eat, now."

"Then why don't you order something?"

"The baby doesn't know what to eat," you sheepishly said.

He looked at you for a moment, before reaching behind you to grab a hoodie. "Fine, let's go," he said, turning to leave yours and his' bedroom.

"I'm fine on my own," you insisted.

"You're pregnant and it's two in the morning. I'm coming with you," Seungcheol said, before yawning.

"Cheol, you're barely awake enough to be coming with me. You need your sleep," you gently said, but he was stubborn.

"I'm suddenly hungry too, so I'll just come with you to buy some food," he said.

Once you and Seungcheol entered the convenience store, you were greeted by the quietness of the place and the single employee that was stood behind the cash register.

You looked around the aisles while your husband followed not too far away from you. "Choose what you want, I'll be paying," he instructed and you didn't bother to argue, considering he always insisted on paying.

Wandering around, you grabbed your favorite snacks, a couple ramen cups, and a few of Seungcheol's favorite foods. Realizing that you should've gotten a basket, you looked at Seungcheol, who seemed to be amused with your current predicament of full hands.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny!" you whined, but he only seemed to amuse further with your comment.

Wordlessly, he left the aisle to grab a basket. When he returned with the basket, you dumped everything in it, and he carried it while you walked around the aisles one last time.

After making sure you didn't want anything else, Seungcheol went to the register, with you waddling behind him.

"Was it worth it to ruin our sleeping schedules for this?" Seungcheol teased, and you nodded with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

He shook his head but opened his mouth and you put a chopstick with ramen noodles on it in his mouth. "Not bad," he said and you beamed at his compliment.

"Is the baby satisfied with the food?"

"Yep, and the baby is finally tired enough to sleep," you said.

Waddling to your bedroom, with Seungcheol not too far from you, you settled into your bed, and closed your eyes.

"Sweetie?"

"Yes, Cheol?"

"I can't sleep now,"

[avtrbee]

safe

✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.

✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader

✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.

Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.

Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.

The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.

"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."

His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."

His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."

But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"

Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.

He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"

"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.

"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.

“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”

“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”

Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”

You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.

Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.

You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.

“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”

You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.

Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.

When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.

“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.

“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”

“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”

You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.

extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Opposites Attract

Astrid Deetz x Fem!Reader

Summary- You had been a psychic ever since you were a child, but recently you had been overwhelmed by how many spirits were contacting you, giving you no time to yourself anymore. Seeking out Lydia Deetz, you go to her home for advice.

Requested by @perfectartisanwerewolf

Warnings- Ghosts, probably some timeline issues, morbid facts, talking about the afterlife, more of my ghost facts (Tell me when you're getting sick of them)

When you met the Deetz family, it was several years after the whole "Ghost House" incident. They had always been kind to you and your family.

The ghosts in Winter River were more plentiful than most people knew. It happened to be a very quiet and uneventful town, but your life never had a dull moment here. You were constantly sought out after Lydia had moved. Now the deceased flocked to you for guidance.

Apparently, they described your psychic abilities as "A shining light in the never-ending darkness". Which would be flattering if they hadn't always been around you for every second of your day. Some spirits followed you to the grocery store, to school, and even sat at your desk while you were sleeping, waiting for you to awaken.

You wanted to help them; you really did. It was just that the only privacy you got now a days was when you excused yourself to use the facilities.

Recently there had been a death in the Deetz family, so Lydia had returned to town with her daughter to attend the funeral and help her stepmother, Deelia. It was like a saving grace to have someone else help with the spirits around the place.

Walking up the giant hill to their home with a stack of books in your hand was proving difficult, but you needed Lydia's help desperately. You waited patiently after knocking on their door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Lydia welcomed you into their home with a smile. After making your way to the couch and placing your books on the table, you took a quick look around the room. There were still many of Deelia's sculptures, most of them unsettling to say the very least.

Your attention shifted back to Lydia as she sat across from you. Talking about ghosts with anyone else might have been awkward, but not with her. She was almost like a second mother to you.

Even now as you sat in the house, you could sense spirits lingering just outside your line of sight.

"I agree, it can be overwhelming, you just need to learn how to set boundaries with them." She explained simply and you nodded.

"I thought I did, but I guess I could try and be sterner with them?"

Her smile grew and you both turned as you heard footsteps descending the staircase. Astrid was in the middle of putting on her sweater to leave the house when she stopped and stared at you, as if in a trance. You smiled and offered her a small wave, trying to be polite.

Your smile awakened something in Astrid. Like a light at the end of a tunnel. A breath of fresh air, or a missing puzzle piece to finally complete a part of herself that had been missing for years. The world faded as all she could focus on was you. She snapped out of it with a cough, finally making her way to stand in the living room with you both.

Lydia introduced you and in turn introduced her daughter, Astrid. It took a moment for her to regain her composure before she muttered an almost completely quiet "Hi."

On the inside, her heart pounded against her chest, but she fought to remain uninterested in anything that involved her mother. Especially now that it seemed like a complete stranger could easily occupy her mother's attention without even trying. It was frustrating.

It was an odd experience, how you made her heart pound. She wasn't sure if it was from jealousy or something more, so she opted to ignore it and continue her journey out the door.

A frown grazed your lips, confused by her behavior before you shifted back to continue your conversation from before. Lydia spoke up first. "Astrid can't see ghosts like we can. The living ignore the strange and unusual."

That didn't seem to brighten up your mood even in the slightest.

"You're saying Mrs. bright eyes can also supposedly see ghosts? Great, here I thought she seemed normal. Is there anyone normal in this town?" Astrid scrunched her nose and picked at her food as she sat at the kitchen table.

"Whatever makes us more money, maybe she could be on your show Lydia!" Deelia smiled as she continued eating, only half paying attention to their conversation.

"Maybe you would be more interested if you talked to her about it, Astrid. It could be good for you to have some friends in this town." Lydia suggested, trying to stray away from yet another argument with her daughter.

"Ghosts are everywhere, you may even see one without even realizing it. Have you ever seen someone walking on the side of the street, but when you look back they're gone?" You smiled; your books open in front of you as you spoke enthusiastically to Astrid.

You sat in her room, a stark contrast from your own. While you liked the paranormal and macabre, her room seemed more... gloomy.

Did you know how much light you radiated? Or the shimmer that appeared in your gorgeous eyes whenever you spoke about this mumbo jumbo? Astrid didn't care for spirits or the paranormal. She believed it was all fake, but the way you spoke to her and the way you looked, she swore she would follow you anywhere.

She simply nodded, trying to snap out of that trance you put her in. Sometimes she believed you must've been a witch instead of a psychic, because how had you possibly gained so much power over her cold heart?

"Are there any here now? You know, ghosts?" her eyebrow raised curiously, just thinking of an excuse for you to speak more.

"I know there is one here, but I haven't been able to place it. It's a male energy."

"Do you use candles or sprinkle some paprika on stuff for rituals?"

Her enthusiasm was great, if not a bit misplaced and incorrect. Your smile widened as you laughed, a freeing sound.

"I've been talking forever, how about you tell me something you're interested in? I know you don't care about this stuff"

Astrid froze, fearing that you caught her. She cleared her throat and blushed softly, looking away as she wracked her brain for anything interesting to say. "Did you know that Mount Everest has a certain area called 'Rainbow Valley' because of all the multicolored jackets and climbing gear that's still attached to the mummified corpses of those who failed to get to the top and froze to death?"

Your head tilted and silence loomed between you both before she spoke again.

"A cult leader named Jim Jones poisoned 918 people by forcing them to drink Kool-Aid mixed with cyanide, chloral hydrate, valium and Phenergan. It was considered one of the largest intentional losses of life since 9/11." She continued talking, trying her best to fill the silence.

Your giggles made her stop digging a deeper hole for herself. You looked amused and not terrified in the least. "Why Kool-Aid?"

"Probably because it was the cheapest" Astrid smiled wide at you, happy that you didn't see her as some sort of creep.

The next morning, Astrid was determined to gain more information about spirits, wanting another chance to spend time with you. She even went as far as to ask her mother for help, which she would deny until the end of her days.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as painful as she thought it would be. It was actually nice to have a common interest. Or so Lydia thought at least. Meanwhile she was interested in you, and not in fact her mother's psychic abilities.

By the time you showed up at her house, she opened the door to you and smiled softly, gesturing for you to come inside. She soon regretted that action as if you would think she was a dork for gesturing like a ringleader in some cheesy circus movie.

You didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil, simply enjoying the fact that she invited you back, saying she had something to share with you.

Sitting on her bed with your legs crossed, you leaned your head in your hand as you gave her your full attention. Everything you did seemed to light a spark in her chest.

"I learned some stuff about ghosts and wanted to run it by you. Maybe I could add it in with my history facts" Astrid spoke with a little more enthusiasm, as if excited to share with you.

She took a deep breath as she tried remembering all of the things her mother had previously told her. "Is it true that there are different types of ghosts? And that they're not all humans?"

You nod your head and sit up a little straighter. "Yes. There are many different classifications of ghosts, including non-human ghosts that never had a soul. Those may include poltergeists, which are simply manifestations of negative energy in a certain space. Thats why you can't communicate intelligently with a poltergeist, because they have no soul or sense of being. They're just energy."

That actually caught her attention, maybe the paranormal wasn't as fake as she thought it was. How could someone possibly come up with a lie that detailed in such a short amount of time? She sat beside you and resisted the urge to kiss you right there and then. Never in her life has she been attracted to someone simply because of their interests and passion when speaking about them.

"Will you go uh... ghost hunting with me at Dracula's castle this summer? I was planning on going there alone after... after my dad passed away. But I'd like you there."

You smiled brightly and wrapped your arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "I would love to"

Bonus:

Lydia stood a careful distance away from Astrid's bedroom door. She wanted to give her daughter some privacy, but she was overjoyed to see the smile return to Astrid's face. The one that had been lost since her father.

She argued that it was to see what about you made her so happy. As she leaned in closer, she heard a gruff voice behind her, making her jump.

"Thats our daughter alright" He spoke, munching on a bucket of popcorn. He leaned against the wall smugly, watching Lydia with a smirk.

Her smile vanished as she stared him down. "Beetl-" She began to utter before he waved his hand dismissively.

"Alright, alright. Your Kid" He huffed out an annoyed sigh before vanishing.

A/N- I finally finished writing this one and I hope that it's to your liking! I tried my best. Usually, I base the reader off of myself to make writing it easier but I tried to switch it up a bit this time.

Thank you all for your patience with me writing this, and I'm sorry for the delay.

Please send in more requests! Next I will be working on a lost boys fic and the second part to the tom riddle series

Credits-

Book Divider- @firefly-graphics

Green swirl divider- @anitalenia

---

Taglist: @mirage018

[jumexju]

REQ !! :  Can I request capitano x childhood friend reader(((o(♡´▽`♡)o))) if you can! 

ON EARTH

Pairing !! : Capitano / Reader

Fic Type !! : Headcannons

CW !! : none !

Summary !! : What it's like to be childhood friends with him.

Notes !! : It wasn't specified whether it was romantic or platonic so I just went with the latter since they were childhood friends. ^^

✦ MASTERLIST

Being Capitano’s childhood friend would mean that you’re the only one who gets to sides of him that others don’t since you’re the only one who’s actually close to him. 

He probably doesn’t bring you to harbinger meetings as often since he likes to keep his personal life and work life separate

But on the rare occasion that he does bring you, some of them are curious about you, especially Childe

He wonders if you can fight (he wants to fight you) 

Capitano doesn’t let him close to you though trust, he wants to protect the only person close to him

How you became friends would probably have had to go in two ways

One : You just approached him despite him being quiet/reserved most of the time and just stuck with him

Or Two : He didn’t mind your presence and decided to keep you around because he liked how you made him feel 

On top of him being fond of you, he’s also a bit (a lot) protective of you

Because you’ve been friends with him since childhood, he doesn’t want any harm to befall you so he goes to great lengths to make sure you’re safe

He probably lets you take training lessons from him if you ask for it, but even if you don’t know/want to fight, he’s probably stationing fatui soldiers wherever you live in Snezhnaya

Like I said, he’s not talkative bcs of his reserved/observant personality 

But he is with you

He probably doesn’t talk about his work things but he does prompt you to talk about your interests bcs they interest him & he’s invested in your normal life

Will def ask about your day and wants all the details no matter how mundane you think it is

You definitely have inside jokes with him, as any good friendships would 

His laugh is rare but its warm

On that note, he only laughs around you

Overall he’s one of the best childhood friends ever

[whatawaitsus]

It's your final year at Killian Argent's School for the Supernatural; a prestigious boarding school for supernatural beings. In theory this doesn't mean much. Your future has been set since you were a child: graduate from a prestigious boarding school, get into an equally prestigious college that your parents will pay for, and then get a prestigious well-paying job with your father's connections. It is what is, you're past the point of complaining at this point in your life.

Despite being one of the most expensive schools in the nation, nothing particularly interesting has happened at the school in the nine years you've been here— aside from the occasional accidental possession caused by a ghost or the common room getting flooded after a nixie gets too frustrated over their homework.

That is until students start to go missing.

Oh, and you start having prophetic dreams of your missing brother. But, that's probably better to unpack later, in all honesty.

What Awaits Us is upcoming choicescript interactive fiction project. The game is rated 16+ for violence, manipulation, kidnapping, strong language, drug use, religious imagery and trauma and optional suggestive content.

Choose what kind of witch you are; customize your gender, pronouns, sexuality, physical appearance, personality, magic class, uniform style, dorm decor, familiar, and more.

Balance trying to solve the disappearances of your peers and your performance as a student.

Establish your relationships with your parents and older brother by playing through flashbacks.

Deicide on your class schedule and extracurricular activity that will have the ability to affect your stats.

Choose one out of five romantic options; a moody kitsune, an expressive siren, a bubbly godling, or a quiet godling, or an apathetic arachne.

Solve the mystery of the missing kids and potentially get a lead on your runaway brother.

Unwillingly gain a weird almost mentor figure in the form of one of your teachers.

Rei Nakamura [they/them, kitsune]: C's roommate. Rei has been at this school as long as you, though your interactions are next to none. You always spot their name at the top of all the classes you share. They generally keep to themselves, only interacting with C and the kids they tutor. When they do talk it's usually an insult or a refusal to do something. It's not a surprise that they're generally disliked by most of the school. How they happened to befriend an outgoing siren is beyond you.

Cleo/Cyrus Valtameri [gender selectable, siren]: Rei's roommate. C is.. a lot. They transferred during your ninth term; originally from Drialia, which is clear from their accent. They joined the theater club nearly as soon as they were enrolled and have landed nearly every lead since then. The two of you don't interact much, but when you do happen to cross paths they're always animatedly nice to you; they're like that to everyone except Rei, really. You almost swear you've seen the two of them point at you and laugh.

Lydia Taylor* [she/her, godling]: Lukas's twin sister. You've been partnered up with Lydia a few times for projects and she's always a diligent student. She's in the boxing club, which is honestly kind of intimidating, especially after what happened between her and Stephan Kim in your sixth term. But, she's always been plenty nice to you too, not fake nice like you've realized most of your classmates are. She and her brother are never apart from eachother, either.

Lukas Taylor [he/him, godling]: Lydia's twin brother. Lukas Taylor has been going through an 'emo phase' about as long as you've known him. You vaguely remember the mop of strawberry blond hair that was on his head when he first came here, though you have a suspicion he bribed a mage to wipe it from the yearbooks. Lukas is quiet; the polar opposite of his sister. You don't think he's in any clubs, though he is always carrying around a weathered sketchbook.

Nico/Nadia Ruiz-Estrada [gender selectable, arachne]: Your roommate. N and you have shared a dorm for the past five years, and they're possibly your best friend. Despite constantly skipping all of their classes, barring the ones the two of you share, their grades remain high. Even after knowing them for six years you still don't know if they care about anything besides displeasing their older sister. They started a band in your ninth year; Bite The Bullet. Half of the kids in your term are convinced they were formerly in prison, something that makes N laugh hysterically whenever you bring it up.

Polyamorous routes available with Rei & Cleo/Cyrus and Lukas & Nico/Nadia.

*Lydia is only romancable by female and nonbinary MC's.*

[slowd1ving]

TALES OF A DISGRUNTLED CORVID ⁺ 　 . MOZE

Quite frankly, you've been assigned an absolute loser (unaffectionate) to work with after your dramatic exit from the Intelligentsia Guild. Whoever said this guy was too silent was wrong, as he verily proves himself as the bane of your existence with his ceaseless yapping. art credits to @code_tesseract on x!! and tagging @ilovechuuy4 as requested :3 pairings: moze + male cryptologist reader (will be part of a series methinks) warnings: male reader, mentions of assassination? may be a touch ooc since this is pre-release writing unfortunately, lowkey crack fic, pre relationship, business partnership of hating each other wc: 1.9k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s never a dull day when a certain Shadow Guard is your partner for an assignment. Truly, your life always sparkles brilliantly when the information pings on your Jade Abacus; without fail, everything gains just a bit more colour, a bit more vivaciousness. Pathetically fallacious, you might’ve described it as had you taken literature classes: mood hued with such dynamic chromaticity that you fear you might explode into little prismic rainbows. Always such a bundle of joy to be geminate with him. 

“Must you be so… disorganised?”

Oh, who are you kidding.

It’s always a dull day when you’re paired with Moze.

“Get out.” A particularly rude gesture materialises in your open hand as you stare at the door he practically kicked down. Apartments in this particular sector of the Xianzhou Yaoqing do not come cheap, and you half-wonder whether he’d eke out coin to console your landlord. Then, with an especially sour, lemon-like expression, you realise he would fork out his own money just to make your life more difficult. 

When you first got assigned work in the Yaoqing (read: kicked to the curb by the Intelligentsia Guild to gain real world experience), you really did expect your tenure to be plain office work. Letters, forms, public relations—these mundanities you anticipated. In fact, you would’ve relished such tedium; after decrypting endless scientific formulae and pondering your mysterious tomes, engaging in bureaucratic matters would be a piece of cake! A little treat for your weary eyes—if you closed them, you could still see faint imprints of equations in the theatre of your mind. 

But what you hadn’t factored into your (ahem) calculations was just how sharp the Arbiter-General Feixiao was: just how passionate she was about pursuing Abominations and ruthlessly eliminating them, just how frank and swift the Madam General was. You also forgot that out of all the flagships, the Yaoqing were one of the most militarily driven. A blunder most fatal. 

“Thy talents would be wasted in the mere administrative wing,” Feixiao gesticulated. “Come, child, put thy brain and brawn to use and track down these villainous curs most evil.”

“Goodness, Madam General!” you’d cried out pitifully. “My heart is thine for the keeping!”

Or something like that. Actually, it may have not all been like that. 

After all, you were kicked out (temporarily! temporarily!) partly due to your penchant for delivering heart-rendering performances to your professors to avoid taking on their extra work. Such moving renditions, that they had to let you go lest you broke their bleeding hearts. Had you known you’d be working in the shady corners of intelligence and decryption, you would’ve kowtowed to the Guild for utmost forgiveness. Probably. 

When your path first overlapped with the Shadow Guards’, you honestly couldn’t give two hoots about the rumours that followed silently behind their own noiseless steps. Your ears had perked somewhat at the gossip your colleagues threw back and forth—though, who could blame you. The job was no fun!

Weirdo with the crow feathers, they’d murmured. He’s so quiet. What a reticent chap. 

Of course, you’d disagree, and perhaps tack on a loser to the descriptions of Moze. You’d disagree not with the ‘weirdo’, but rather with the quiet and reticent adjectives—partly because he really does need to shut up more. 

And he needs to stick to his rumours more. If this loner’s made it a point to not work with people, then why oh why did the honourable Madam General decide your ancient science and study complemented his shady skillset? And why oh why does he never refuse her request? (You’ve conveniently forgotten how you always fold when it comes to her.) You’ve always worked alone too, for as long as you can remember; decoding the ancient equations in ruins and solving their gimmicky puzzles using your boundless wits is a job for one. 

As it stands, the people he investigates, the work he takes care of, sometimes intrudes into the realm of questionable rituals and summonings the Abominations and their ilk oft partake in. Thus do you find your career verging into some gruesome form of forensics as you stare down what would commonly be considered a murder scene: sigils and ancient alchemical algebra staring right back at you. He deals with the human aspect of intelligence: the psychology, the crime, the covert espionage. You deal with the technical fallout: the analysis of antique sciences is your specialty, after all. This has culminated in a begrudging partnership where both parties wish nothing more than to leave it. 

A business relationship, of sorts, founded on the mutual dislike (a weak description) of each other. 

“No.” He doesn’t budge from where he leans against the doorframe, but he does have the decency to swing the door closed behind him. Yet, it’s not out of any respect for the hallowed sanctity of your abode, but more because he’s sooo Mysterious and Aloof that none of your neighbours are allowed to view his visage. 

“You are—” a quick glance at your watch proves your point. For someone obsessed with keeping tidy, he sure does have messy time management. “—eighteen minutes too early.”

“And you still aren’t ready,” he counters, pointedly eyeing the loose shirt and comfortable cotton trousers slung over your hips. You yawn, tired already from his yapping. He’s been compared to a crow for as long as you’ve been here—and perhaps far longer—but to you he’s always been more like a little dog. Yap. Yap. Yap. 

This is precisely why I don’t work with others, you can almost taste his words—his thoughts. 

“You are currently the biggest hindrance to my getting ready,” you grimace. Casting a quick glance over his intricate garb, it’s no wonder he feels getting ready is such a lengthy endeavour: all straps and buckles and tough layers that makes him the walking fortress he is. “I’ll be on time.”

He doesn’t reply: laconic only when he acknowledges your point as unequivocally right, which is seldom. 

“Are you going to keep staring?” you snap as you sling the worn shirt from your body. Beneath the soft clothes is muscle hard-won through your frequent collaborations with the Armed Archaeologists in the Guild: days filled with more sparring and their stupid callisthenics than actually finding ruins. 

“Do you have to dress right here?” he counters, but it’s a futile argument—this apartment is barely big enough for you as it stands. Currently, he’s situated by the doorway, but you’re on the unseen boundaries of the living room and the tiny kitchen. Beyond is your bedroom and miniscule bathroom, of which neither have enough space to move comfortably to change. And you certainly aren’t going to sacrifice your comfort to appease his poor eyes; he’s seen worse for sure. Though, you doubt he’s ever seen a naked body that wasn’t in the context of assassination and the anatomy classes you know he’s meticulously attended for his shady work. Surreptitiously, you snicker at the thought: that there aren’t any lovers lined up for this weirdo. 

You toss the garment onto your couch, precisely because you know he’s grinding teeth over it; and there’s that tell-tale click of molar against molar. You even whistle a bit as you untie the neat bow holding your trousers to your hips; the fabric pools on the floor, and you don’t make any move to pick it up. 

There it is. His glower—red-hot and piercing through the flesh and sinew of your back—is heavy in this small space. What you don’t see, however, is how his eyes flicker briefly across your body, down the firm step of your legs as you step out of the trousers. Out of context, watching muscle ripple and twist as you strip forces crimson to seep into his face. This is an implication he’s absolutely disgusted with—with you. 

“If you have any more input as to what I do in my home, you’re welcome to pay my rent first,” you finally deign to reply, rummaging in the dresser in your hallway—which he knows has never been neat with all the clothes spilling from the edges. His eye twitches. 

“You’re an incorrigible man,” he retorts, carmine flush now from irritation rather than anything else. Irritation from the beginning, because it was never anything else. 

“Wow,” you blink, weighing your options between shirt A and shirt B. The cherry-red with straps, or the Prussian blue with straps, you muse, holding the shirts against your beloved grey cargoes. “You sound exactly like my professor. Same adjective and everything.”

When it comes to shameless people, there comes the very real risk of insults being nullified by the insulted through them simply agreeing. 

“No wonder the Guild kicked you out.” As you’re pulling the scarlet fabric over your head, you pause—it seems he’s finally hit a nerve. There’s a rare smile toying with his lips at the victory: one he doesn’t notice, but ghosts across his face nonetheless.

Now, there are many things you could reply to that with. Such as, did your parents give you a reason when they abandoned you? Nay, that is too low of a blow. No wonder you don’t have any friends. But he probably grapples with that bitter reality each morning, gnashing his teeth and beating his chest. 

“Bold of you to speak of being unwanted,” you comment matter-of-factly. Both insults it is then, wrapped neatly into an ambiguous tale of these eight words. His smile fades. 

With a slight gasp, you finally wrangle the tight material on—it’s armour, after all, a specific textile development by the Yaoqing for the protection of civilians and tourists alike, though you aren’t considered a tourist by your special work-abacus-plaque. It fits snugly against you: straps for knives sit tight against your forearms, while the harness that provides extra support for your torso rests neatly beneath your chest. The garb’s almost like a compression shirt from your home planet, except the Yaoqing has far more violent uses for it. 

“Didn’t Guard Zhí reject you?” He bites out, and it takes a minute for you to realise he’s talking about Zhí Hua, the best friend you’d made on the flagship—and your Shadow Guard drinking buddy. 

“Huh?” Dumbfoundedly, you pause in doing the buckles on your trousers, losing far more time than you’d bargained for. “A-hua is my friend.”

The diminutive doesn’t go unnoticed, which rankles him far more than falling prey to the rumour about you and his fellow Guard. No, both rankle him—likely because hearing about a workplace romance about you just disgusts him in general. 

“Pfft,” you snort out, finally done with the laborious task of adjusting the materiel and various other gadgets attached to your body. “I have got to tell her about this. Who knew your ability to gather information would be stopped by a rumour?”

The tightness in his chest lessens somewhat. 

“Besides, everyone already knows my heart belongs to the Madam General,” you sigh, clasping your hands to your chest in a dreamy gesture. It’s an ongoing joke: you professing your deep adoration of Feixiao after she gives you a pay raise for putting up with the so-called ‘reticent’ Moze. “Woah, what’s with the sour look?”

“Gross,” he mutters. 

As you step near the doorway to grab your boots, you lean into his space mockingly: and he recoils back in even more revulsion. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t know.” You pat his shoulder once, condescendingly, then promptly slip your heavy boots off the shelf. “Since there’s no one who loves you.”

And his glare as you shuffle your shoes on is poignant. 

 ₊  ⋆   ☾

[thecomfywriter]

How to Write Narration/Dialogue in a Child’s Perspective:

navigation post preorder my book! buy me a ko-fi? discord! ToV community!

Heyyo! Welcome to a new #thecomfywritertoolbox post! This question came up in discord (this is for you, @the-letterbox-archives) so I thought I’d write a post about it, since I haven’t done one of those in a while.

Before we get into it—as you can tell, I have a new blog post setup!!! I’m really happy with how it turned out, since i wanted to organize my posts better without having all the links bombarding the bottom. So yes, check out the links above ☝️

Now, without further ado… On writing children’s voices.

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Age and Developmental Stages:

Children have a very unique perspective in this world, especially since age and time in terms of childhood works completely different to how it works with adults. A two year age gap between a twelve-year-old and a fourteen-year-old can feel monumental due to the development, life stage, and experience each child has. Twelve-year-olds are still newbies in middle school, probably forking around with their friends, going to recess twice a day and needing to ask permission to get something out of their desk (this is based on the Canadian experience lol. Obviously, it differs between countries). Whereas fourteen-year-olds are freshman in high school. TOTALLY DIFFERENT.

so when writing from a child’s perspective, really consider their age as a determining factor.

a kid trying to fit into their new high school and impress their older classmates will talk far more differently than a preschooler, or a middle schooler.

Listen to audios with children of said demographic speaking:

You’ll notice children tend to have a different cadence and pattern of speech. They hesitate on some words, stutter on others, drift off into though mid-sentence, or jump ship and talk about something completely different. The younger they are, the smaller their attention span, and the more filterless they become, because younger children don’t yet have a grasp on social norms, so they’ll tend to speak their mind and ask more questions.

Another thing to consider here, however, is how they were raised. were they raised to be priss and proper, and speak without stuttering? Do they have a speech coach for that?

Questions to consider when addressing the cadence, tone, and patterns of speech of children:

Do they have a lisp that needs addressing?

Do they speak really quickly and forget to take pauses, meaning they have a lot of run on sentences?

Are they emotionally reactive and yell a lot, or switch between moods fairly quickly?

Vocab and grammar!!!

Again, this is highly dependent on the age demographic of your kid, but younger kids are shit at grammar!!! Especially the funky rules of irregular English verbs. It’s harder for a child, who is taught to recognize the conjugation patterns of ‘-ed’ to signal past tense, all of a sudden be told that saying “telled” is wrong. They might make mistakes like that until they are corrected otherwise.

But again, that’s for the younger kids.

Elementary school kids will chipper chapper with their friends and family a lot. They seek to impress most of the time. They’ll get excited over things they know really well and most kids giggle a lot/get excited when it comes to talk about them (some kids have social anxiety and won't, but instead go quiet). When I worked summer camp, the kids would always try to grab me and smile really bright whenever attention was on them and whatever they wanted to talk about. They made a lot of silly jokes, but acted mighty proud whenever people laughed at them. So they’d repeat the joke louder. Again. And again. And again.

It’s an age of asking approval from adults and peers. But also an age when the idea of authority inspires submission, because they regard those authority figures in a higher esteem. So the way an elementary kid will be boisterous and laugh amongst friends is probably not how they’ll talk to adults. Until that adult earns their trust, they might just shrink into themselves and be as small as possible.

Then you have the defiant age group. The preteens to teenagers. They have their own slang, oftentimes. A way to differentiate those from the “in-group” and those on the “out-group”. if the out-group uses their slang, “Eww… that’s so weird. Why are you talking like that? Look at her, she’s trying to be cool, oh my god. That’s so embarrassing.”

Yeah, this is the age where passive aggressive bullying is strong lmao.

Younger kids trying to be mean will be blunt with it: “Your mom smells like old socks!”

Older kids? Older kids will give you stank eyes, lock gazes with their friends, try to fight off a laugh, and then look back at you all sobered up. There’s more exclusivity at this age, but also a wider range of vocab. That vocab is used creatively, as a means to express oneself in a unique way, or as representative to the group they identify with. So bear that in mind.

And then you have young adults but womp womp this is about kids LMAO.

Perspective:

LASTLY… Consider perspective. How does a child see the world? Bright and colourful? Hopeful? Do they notice the butterflies that flutter across the sky, the ones that adults have gotten used to, so their eyes glaze over? Do they smile at every stranger because their parents taught them to always be kind? Do they spot an ice cream truck down the street and LOCK IN before proceeding to plead their parents for money to go buy some?

What are the things the child values? What are the things that they haven’t wrapped their head around yet? if you’re trying to write in the perspective of a child, these are the things to consider.

Oh yeah. Bonus point. Children gets embarrassed TEN TIMES easier than adults do. Specifically preteens and teenagers. Younger children are a bit more shameless, because again… No concept of social norms. But preteens have started to develop this shame and insecurity and MY GOD it burns.

So TLDR:

Consider age demographic (SPECIFIC AGE)

Consider grammar mistakes and vocabulary limitations

Differences in peer-peer interactions vs adult-child interactions

Consider perspective

Cadence, tone, and speech patterns

Watch videos and observe the way children speak in different contexts

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That’s all folks! Have a mighty bopping Saturday!

Happy Writing!

[voltronisanobsession]

So you like my ideas, huh? Well, I hope I can continue to create some good ones for you! I shall try my best 🫡

Oh! I do have one request in mind, how about Percy being paired with reader who’s the child of Athena? Yes, yes, I know an amazing half-blood known as Annabeth exists but I had something in mind.

We all know how children of Athena are seen as wise, intellectual, clever, and combative people but what if the reader was different than that? There’s several types of intelligence after all, so what if they specialized in emotional intelligence and craft?

I can see them being insecure of their “abilities” since they know their siblings can do better, and even fear that Athena herself is disappointed in them, but, while Percy thought it was strange at first, he soon found himself enjoying those traits.

I mean, with their emotional intelligence, the reader knows when he’s upset no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and they tend to give him gifts like Melinoe!reader. They’re probably usually architectural models, weavings, mini sculptures of what he enjoys… You know all that good stuff. They probably gifted him something as something to remember them by when he went on a quest… but I’ll leave that up to you.

Combat practice to bond/as dates 👀?

Also, I’m not sure if you saw, but I like long headcanons so stop apologizing and keep it up!/lh

Poor all of your thoughts into it if you have to or want, I like it!

Percy with a Child of Athena!Reader

I literally LOVE these detailed asks UGGHHH!! I love the idea of instead having a different form of intelligence as a child of athena like damn😍 I'm getting used to brain dumping on these, its a work in progress🙈

Sorry for answering so late😭

Lowkey this reader sticks out like a sore thumb amongst their siblings😭

I like to think that most Athena kids are usually on the more serious sides, so it surprises a lot of campers outside of the Athena cabin to see Reader extremely expressive!

While the other Athena children spend their time devising tactical plans for big camp games, reader is just on the side doodling architectural designs and whatnot

They aren’t as involved in what their siblings do because it doesn’t interest them much

Like whenever they try and ask for readers opinions and start using big ass words, they just smile and nod cuz they had no idea what the others were saying

Athena's children are extremely intelligent so its difficult for reader to be on the same wave length as their siblings

It lowkey makes them feel like an outcast in their cabin because they cant really connect with their siblings like they do with each other while they talk about subjects beyond reader’s comprehension

Constantly being surrounded by books, scrolls and maps full of knowledge, reader often beats themselves over not being able to comprehend and show interest in wanting to learn about these types of things

They’re led to believing that they are a defect amongst their mothers children (crying)

They are always surrounded by reminders of their own inabilities to match their sibling’s intelligence which is why they spend little time in the Athena cabin, and even littler time with their siblings

Readers only saving grace is that they are always in tune with peoples emotions and feelings, no matter how well or little they know the people around them

Whether its feelings of anxiousness, sadness, quiet anger, or happiness, reader always seems to know how a person is feeling!

The first time Percy meets reader is when he spots them at the crafting hut

Being one of his first activities in the beginning of the day, he notices how reader is always there before anyone else

Percy probably thought you were apart of the Hephaestus cabin or something like that with how many times he’s seen you sculpting and carving away at a new project every other day

So he’s surprised when you reveal that you’re actually a child of Athena

He would definitely notice how you distance yourself from your siblings, especially during breakfast, lunch and dinner

He’s good friends with Annabeth so he sees the differences between you, her and your siblings

While she and her siblings are more closed off and have their noses stuck up a new book everyday, your always seen drawing or weaving a new tapestry for your cabin

You show your emotions more openly compared to their more dismissive nature as well!

He definitely sees you as the 'social butterfly' of the Athena cabin

The more time he spends with reader though, he notices just how in tune they are with his feelings

He could give the smallest, most insignificant indication that he's had a bad day and you'd be able to read him like an open book

It's easy talking to you about his conflicting emotions, your patience and thoughtful expression gives him more confidence to just let everything out

I think he would definitely fall for how empathetic you are in many situations

You've made many friends with campers from different cabins because of this quality trait! Always learning and understanding a situation/conflict that arises, you're always able to resolve the problems that makes it fair for all parties involved

Despite this, Percy is confused and a bit surprised to find out that you're actually insecure about this dominating trait of yours

"What?! It's literally the best thing about you though!"

"I know but its just! My siblings aren't the way I am. They're able to actually use their skills for something. All I can do is listen to people and make friends. That's nothing special. I'm useless."

It PAINS him to hear you say that because its obvious you don't understand the importance of being as emotionally intelligent as you are

He makes it his mission to show you just how many people you've helped, to show you that you have a reason to be proud of what you're able to do!

You slowly open yourself more after hearing all his reassurance, from him and other people around camp

It's definitely a positive change as you have a pep to your step now. You engage with you siblings more now that you have a confidence in your own abilities.

You make him many sculptures as thank you gifts! Even when he says that you don't need to, you cant help admit that enjoy giving him these gifts with a nervous smile

You've made him a mini version Riptide and even have given him a small owl pendant

You were hesitant to give him the pendant because it seemed more intimate compared to your other gifts, but he happily accepted it with a soft smile

AND WHEN HE PUT THE PENDANT ON IN FRONT OF YOU YOUR HEART NEARLY LEPT OUT OF YOUR CHEST I CCANNTTT

I think reader would be pretty aware of Percy's feelings for them which makes them feel fuzzy

So imagine how you feel when Percy pulls up to you one late afternoon after not seeing him for the entire day to give you a small pendant of his own

The sculpting of the trident is definitely more crude and less detailed compared to the one you gave him, something Percy abashedly admits but you wave him off

"It's beautiful, thank you Percy."

"No problem, now we're matching!"

You're aware of your own feelings for him as you are aware of his feelings for you, so it doesn't take long for a confession to happen

I mean matching pendants? come on bro its so painfully obvious to everyone

Percy falls for who reader is, not because their a child of Athena

He doesn't care that you're different from your siblings because he understands everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses

You still represent Athena with pride and he'll happily support you till the end

PERCY IS SUCH A GREEN FLAG IN GENERAL I LOVE WRITING FOR HIM💔💔

[littlemissayu]

TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 1)

TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff

ft. :Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw | pt.2 ; ft. Octavinelle & Scarabia | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia

Riddle Rosehearts-

This man only has 1 kid, maybe 2 but that's kinda pushing it. I think he would be so worried about messing up his child the way his mother messed him up. He'd be strict yet dotting on his children; like he'll make sure their homework is done by a reasonable time and then praise them for doing really well on an assignment, especially if it's a subject they genuinely struggle with. If I'd say a boy dad or girl dad honestly, I think it could go either way, but I'm leaning towards boy dad.

Trey Clover-

I heavily believe he will have a big family anywhere from 4 - 7 kids. And these kids are absolutely close in age because I know the two of you are gonna get very busy, it feels like you're always pregnant with other people. Just imagine Trey with a mini him (or you) helping him crack the eggs in a bowl while they're wearing matching aprons <3. He would be a gentle parent but would put his foot down went he needed to. When it comes to girl dad or boy dad I can only think both!!

Cater Diamond-

At first he wasn't sure he wanted kids bc kids are a lot to take care of, but after the two of you being together and going through so much. He realizes deep down he did want to start a family with you. He would probably want only one or two but your first pregnancy you end up with triples; then you two said that's it until you got pregnant again with twins!!(My headcanon that Cater's special magic makes it more likely to have twins, triplets, etc come for here!!). It wasn't what the two of you anticipated but you couldn't be happier

Your pair of triplets ended up being 2 girls and a boy, then your twins were girls. He's a very fun dad always staying on top of the trends and slang. He has a hard time laying down the law with his kids sometimes, so you have to do it most of the time but when he really has to he does. *Bonus: You guys have 4 family photo shoots a year, and multiple photo albums*

Ace Trappola-

He probably has 3-5 kids, but from time to time it feels like you have 4-6 kids. He's always getting into trouble with them, playing pranks on you and others, even each other. There is no quiet in your household, it doesn't exist til everyone's asleep. Your kids are the most playful and competitive children you've ever seen, but they know to dial it back from time to time; Ace told them "When your mom says it once, she might be joking, if she says it twice she more likely serious so listen, if you make it to three....your the only name going on that tombstone". You guys are the most chaotic adorable family ever.

Deuce Spade-

He has 3 kids and not a single one of them is male, bc this man is %100 a GIRL DAD!! At first he was nervous about messing her up but after your first girl turned 3 and your second is 1, he couldn't imagine having a boy. He is the most proud girl dad you'll ever see. Is so protective of his amazing girls(that includes you btw), would fight off mosquito if it bit one his girls, no matter have stupid he looks. Spoils his little girls in any way he can, luckily you're there to make sure their not TOO spoiled.

Leona Kingscholar-

This man has 2 children and always makes sure one never feels less than the other. He knows what it's like to be stuck in your siblings shadow so he tries to make sure that never happens to his kids. While he won't always be present since he is still part of the royal family and therefore will have certain royal duties to fulfill; he will always do his best to be there for his kids. He does sleep less then he did before since his life is busier, but he always makes sure to take a nap everyday so when he's with his wife and kids he'll be able to be in a better mode to see his beautiful family. He would have one girl and one boy.

Ruggie Bucchi-

3-8 kids. His kids are the rowdiest, sneakiest kids you've ever seen. Although most of the time they're super sweet(to you). The first time you two talked about kids you agreed on only 2, but after having your first 2 rascals. You two got some more baby fever and ended up having only a few more. You did have a good paying job so you could take care of your little pack of children. The Bucchi household never has a boring day because there is always something really exciting or crazy that is happening. Overall he has more girls than he does boys. You first daughter stays a daddy's girl <3, but dw he loves all his kids equally!

Jack Howl-

4 kids, an even amount. He isn't the most expressive Dad but his kids can tell how he feels based on body language and physical acts. While to others it may seem as if he couldn't care less about his kids, it is the complete opposite. Always making sure their ok, celebrating their accomplishments, and always encouraging them to do what they love. His kids can tell through these small acts that he loves them. Your husband loves to take early morning runs, ofc but when your kids are babies he would take them in their stroller so they can get some fresh air to get them in a good mood. He does that so that maybe if their baby is in a better mood you won't have to much stress when trying to figure out what they need; it makes both of your lives easier. At first the two of you though you'd only have boys bc of your first 3 but then low and behold, your last kid was a baby girl<3!!

Heartsabyul Masterlist

Savanaclaw Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

[carlsangel]

CRUSH

carl grimes x adhd!dixon!fem!reader

(carl loves to hear about your hyper fixation.)

tags: fluff!

masterlist here!

(this takes place in season 4 at the prison!)

Growing up, you’d gotten interested in many things. You were really educated on a lot and your dad, Daryl honestly couldn’t keep up with it. He tried his best, since he’s a pretty quiet guy he’s a great listener. Although, sometimes you wished he’d give you some sort of feedback or maybe ask you questions about whatever it was you were telling him about.

Even after the turn he never really had time to talk about anything. He was always going on runs or he went out hunting. He was really important in the way the prison ran, so he was always busy. You always felt sort of anxious about it, you could never really talk or share your thoughts or explain the interests you loved. They were especially important now as most of your hyper fixations were what was getting you through it all.

You talked, and you talked a lot and there’s nothing wrong with that. But in a world that suddenly had gone quiet, it was hard for people to listen to you considering how adapted they’d become to the silence. You were like a burst of energy that most people weren’t exactly ready for quite yet.

Except for Carl.

He always thought you were the cutest and funniest ever, even when you were younger like at the quarry or the farm. There, you never really had freedom to be yourself because the adults would always tell you to hush and be quieter. That’s why at the prison, he loved to watch you be who you truly were. He’d seen you interact with the other kids at the prison and had gotten angry at them for brushing you off when you were excited about certain things and began to ramble. So, one day at the tables outside the prison, he did something not many people did.

He asked you your favorite book series.

You were ecstatic, even though you realize this may not an invitation to explain to him every bit of lore of the story, you were happy he’d even put in the effort to ask. You tried to stay as calm as possible. “It’s called A Series of Unfortunate Events…it’s quite complicated…” You explain shyly, not having really opened up to him like that before. Sure you’d gone through a lot with him but you stayed quiet a lot of the time because of how discouraged you were by adults.

“Complicated? How so?” He questioned. Which is exactly what you wanted. Your eyes widen a bit but you try your best to stay calm so you don’t completely scare him off.

“Well how much do you wanna know, I mean it’s quite a lot it could take me hours to explain and I’d feel quite bad if you wanted like a quick synopsis and not an entire look on the lore and…” Your voice trails off when you realize you’d been rambling. He however was admiring you completely. He found you so refreshing. “I wanna hear everything.” He tells you. Again exactly what you wanted. Was he always so cute? Or is that something you’d just noticed?

“I guess I could start with the basic information, there’s three siblings right, theres Violet who’s the eldest sister and she’s an inventor, she always ties her hair up with this ribbon and that’s how you know she’s gonna make something good...” You continue to ramble and smile at little details you explain. “Then there’s the middle child, Klaus who’s a boy and he is very intelligent, he remembers basically anything ever told to him which I somewhat relate to considering I get really interested at certain things but anyway,” He giggles at you a bit, enjoying everything in front of him at the moment.

“They also have a little sister Sunny who’s just a baby but they understand everything she says and she has these teeth that are super sharp even though it’s just four but she could probably bite off a finger if she really wanted to.” His eyes widen a bit. “A finger? Wow…and only four teeth?” He inquired, very intrigued at what you’re saying.

You continue to talk to him a bit more, explaining a good amount of the plot to him and he listened intently. You’d stopped for dinner but continued to talk with him during. At some point, Daryl had to come and pry you away from him so you could actually go the hell to bed. Carl didn’t want you to go, you’d already gotten him invested and he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing what happened next. He also wanted to just spend time with you.

“Cmon s’time for bed.” Daryl told you, you then turned to Carl and a small frown was displayed on his face. “We can talk again tomorrow morning…if you want.” He immediately nods. “Yes- yeah I’d love to.” Daryl looks between the both of you, knowing how much Carl had admired you. He also knew that if Carl was listening and wanting to know more, you’d also admire him just as much. You smile at him and nod. Daryl directs you in the way of the cells and he stays back to talk to Carl.

“You got somethin for my daughter?” He interrogated Carl for a moment. “W-what?” Daryl looks back at you to make sure you’re far enough before continuing. “Those books…she’s been dyin to talk to me about those since I found em for her. Haven’t had the time.” He explains. “No one else seems to want to hear about it. What’re you up to?” Carl tilts his head a bit. “I just wanted to know her favorite series…I suppose I enjoy hearing her talk.” He smiles.

So Daryl left him alone about it. He was glad to know you had someone to talk to while he was busy.

The next day at breakfast, you were eating while reading back at the benches. Once he gets his plate he walks over and sits across from you. His paper plate hit the table with a bit a thud and you notice, looking up from the book. “Oh…hey.” You look up at him and smile, he takes a moment to respond as he’s quite flustered to see your smile straight off the bat. “Hi…which one are you reading?” He points to your book.

“The twelfth book. I’m kinda sad about it though…” You give a small pout and he picks up a bit of bacon to take a bite. “Why, cause it’s gonna end?” He chews his food and waits for your reply. “That and I don’t have the last book.” You fold the page’s corner, sort of a way to mark your place. Carl takes note of that. He does however feel horrible that you’re missing the last book. “Oh really? I’m sorry…maybe we can make up our own ending. Once you explain the rest of it to me.” He does his best to cheer you up.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to solve your problem. Although he was too young to go out scavenging, his best friend wasn’t. So after breakfast where you explained the second book to him, on his way to do his chores he stopped Michonne on her way out of the gate. “Do you think maybe if it’s not to big a deal you could stop at the library? I’m looking for a book.” He explains, not quite mentioning you currently. “Is this for your new old ‘friend’?” She questions, somewhat teasingly. He rolls his eyes but nods. “Yes. She’s missing the last book. The thirteenth.”

“The last book? Tragic. I know the series, I overheard your guys’ chats yesterday.” She smiles.

So she left and you didn’t see Carl till later that night in the cell block after dinner. He stopped by your cell with a small bag in his hands. He pushed the curtain open to see you lying on your stomach atop your bed, on the final pages of the twelfth book. “Almost done?” He sort of startled you but you immediately smile once you realize it’s him.

“Mhm.” His visit was rather unusual, usually you’d just talk to him during the day but not before bed. You sit up and make room for him to come sit beside you. “I got something for you.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out a book, the thirteenth book. “‘The End?’ Really? How…I mean my dad’s been looking for it for me but-” You look up at him with a bright grin. You don’t really say anything before swiftly tackling him in a hug. He hugs you so tightly, all he wanted was to see you happy.

After pulling away from the hug, he reached back down into the back and pulled out a hook bookmark. It had a little arrow charm. Fitting for a Dixon to say the least.

“I mean…this makes sense.” You tell him, he laughs at your comment. “I just thought I’d have Michonne find you the last book. I’m quite invested in it myself. I love hearing you talk about it…I love hearing you talk.” He explains, sort of staring at you admiringly. You notice and look a tad skeptical, knowing there was something more appealing to him than just talking.

“I uh..I have a small crush on you…if that explains everything.” He admits, his face turning a light shade of pink.

You smile. “Yeah, I could tell.”

a/n: i thought this was quite fun to write, i love a series of unfortunate events muehehehe. anyway i hope this is what anon wanted, i did some good research for it to ensure it was okay :)) okay love u bye

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh

[tonyboneysblog]

MOTHER HEN: PART SIX

parings: hawks x mother!reader

wordcount: 1.7k

warnings: none!

notes: TECHNICALLY ITS BEEN THREE DAYS. also hawks wtf are you doing in this fic bro….

summary: you, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

cold & scared.

That is how hawks feels at the moment, he’s getting fucking sick of these nightmares- they just get worse and worse.

he’s shaking, he can feel it.

he’s terrified to scream, doesn’t wanna wake you up- so only small grunts come out from him.

You wake up anyways, of course.

“Hawks?” Your voice calls to him, he’s still snug up next to you, using your chest as some makeshift pillow.

You shake him lightly, he wakes up with a gasp, heavy breathing.

“H-hey!” You grab onto him, cradling his head back to your chest.

He hears you whisper soft praises in his ear. he woke you up, he realizes.

“Y/n..?” He looks up at you.

“...are you okay?”

No, he’s not. He doesn’t want you to worry though, so he lies.

“I’m fine.”

“Hawks…you can tell me.” You caress his hair softly, it’s like you know his weakness.

But he can’t tell you, genuinely he can’t.

“Nightmares? I used to have them a lot too.” You smile nervously.

Of course you break his resolve with that.

He starts to ramble quickly, “Fuck- y/n I can’t stand them, they’re so scary I-i can’t-“

You rub his back, lovingly.

it makes him want to throw up.

especially after what he saw in that dream, you, hurt, screaming.

You make your way to his soft feathers, brushing through them softly, fixing them.

would that be considered preening?

“I don’t want to sleep anymore y/n, I can’t take it.”

Your heart breaks, Fumikage always dealt with nightmares after Ryuji.

Ryuji.

“Nightmares, they just get worse every night don’t they?” You say softly.

Hawks sighs, “I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”

Ryujis quirk is dream manipulation, that’s how he always got you to apologize to him after an agreement.

After he and hawks little spat at the store, you bet Ryuji decided to torture him a bit.

You’ll stop those bad dreams for hawks.

You smile at him, “Don’t worry, they’ll be gone soon.”

then you kiss his temple.

you kiss his temple.

like you always did when Fumikage had a bad one.

Fucking muscle memory- always kicks you in the ass.

Hawks looks shocked, like he didn’t expect it, obviously because it was random.

“S-sorry, Fumi-“

“What are you trying to get out of me y/n?” Hawks looks at you hurt and confused.

Kinda like you reset the way he thought, or dealt with things- he always flirted with you so this probably didn’t help him.

It just hurt him since you always take the, “no romantic” approach.

“What?”

“I’ve been pinning you for weeks, a-and you just keep giving me these mixed signals?!” His voice raises slightly.

“I-I..well I don’t know hawks-“

“A-and then you asked me to kiss you last night? The same night you were flirting with some guy at the bar?”

Well you definitely did do that..

“Now- here you are comforting me like I’m some child.”

“Well.. I’m just used to Fumi-“

Hawks pulls himself away from your touch, “Just answer the question.”

You were dreading this slightly, you knew hawks was a little more flirty than most of your guy friends.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what you wanted.

You thought you did with Ryuji but…he hurt your son, your Fumikage.

You don’t want that ever happing again.

“Hawks..I want to be honest with you.”

“Then be honest, y/n.”

“I can’t, not after Ryuji.” Your voice is raw, you hated what Ryuji did, what he’s doing now.

“I can’t have someone hurt Fumikage like that again.”

He clutches his fists, “I’m a hero y/n, what do you expect from me- to hurt some kid?!”

“Well his father was a hero too and try and try to ask me where he is now.” You say bitterly.

Then it’s quiet, you could almost hear Ryuji for a minute.

Hawks gets up from your bed, “I’m done.”

“What..?”

He immediately rushes out of your home, past the kitchen, the one where he first gave you his number.

Past the hallway, the one where Ryuji hit your son.

Then out the door, he doesn’t even slam it.

He’s gentle, like he doesn’t wanna cause a ruckus.

Your face feels wet, tears are streaming down it.

Why couldn’t you just say nothing? why’d you have to tell him the truth?

Why did you say anything.

Fumikage opens the door, his face shifts into shock and runs over to you.

“Mother, what happened?” His voice filled with worry.

“Nothing, Fumi…just a bad dream.”

Fumikage hugs you, you hug back.

And you break.

Fumikage can feel his heart straining, he doesn’t know how to comfort you, he knows you’re not telling him the truth at the very least.

“I’m sorry Fumi.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, mom.”

And you cry, until you can’t anymore.

You’re probably just worrying Fumikage all over again.

You collect yourself, “I have to go run some errands..”

“Do you want me to come with?”

“No, no it’s okay.”

Fumikage doesn’t need to see him.

It’s only one errand anyways.

You stalk over to your car, you have work tomorrow morning- then the next week Fumikage has the sports festival.

You rack your brain with everything you need to do, what’s happening next week, trying to distract yourself from the days earlier events.

All while you drive to his house, getting out of the car, knocking on the door.

It’s opens.

“Y/n?” Ryuji says confused.

You look down at your feet, “Ryuji, please leave hawks alone.”

You hated looking at him.

Ryuji scoffs, “why, the poor baby can’t handle a couple bad dreams?”

“Ryuji…please.” You beg him softly.

You hated begging him.

You look up at him, you can tell his own quirk is taking a toll on him. His eyes are dark and purple, he’s looks pale.

“I know it’s effecting you too, I don’t want that for you Ryuji.”

You hated how you always lied.

“You and your charm, y/n.” Ryuji shakes his head.

“You have no reason to hurt hawks, we’re not even dating Ryuji-please.”

You hated how much you cared.

“Is that the only reason that you’re coming over here?” Ryuji says slowly, carefully, softly even.

“I know you’re sensible…with whatever love you still have for me in your heart- please use towards not harming hawks..he- he doesn’t deserve it.” You plead.

Ryuji sighs, thinking it over.

He looks down, kicking dirt slightly.

“Fine, it’s fucking exhausting for me anyways.”

You smile at him, “I can not begin to thank-“

“Now get off my property y/n, i gave you what you wanted.”

You nod quickly and walk over to your car.

Well convincing Ryuji was easier than you expected, then again he always listened to you.

Hawks on the other hand was doing no errands, did he have a job? Yes! did he want to do said job after the morning he just had?

no.

he was exhausted from all of these nightmares plaguing him, he though maybe sleeping next to you would help but no!

Even the hero’s could tell something was up, said hero was Mirko.

“What crawled up your ass this morning?”she cheerfully called to hawks.

“The usual.” He called back from his post.

Mirko smiles, “I got some coffee, get down here will ya?”

Hawks flies down next to mirko, where she almost hands him a nice coffee but when he goes to grab it…she pulls away?

“Nope, tell me what’s wrong first.”

He sighs and goes for the drink again, “Lady problems.”

Mirko bursts out laughing, effectively moving the coffee can away from his grasp.

“You and the lady’s man…you’re starting to act like a virgin yknow? Can’t ever keep a girl…” She smacks his shoulder.

But hawks doesn’t reply, or even laugh.

Mirko looks at him, “..seriously?”

“It’s hard to get your game on when you’re always busy Mirko…”

Mirko laughs again, clutching her stomach and flailing back and forth like a kid being tickled.

“God, that’s probably why your girl doesn’t want you!”

“She knows..”

“Oh really?”

“No, no she doesn’t know- why does that even matter?!” Hawks says with agitation.

Mirko plops the coffee can on his head, “depends, what typa girl is she?”

“Doesn’t matter, I left her earlier today cause she didn’t know what she wanted.”

Mirko shakes her head, “that’s how it’s like with the younger ones, hawks..they don’t know what they want!”

Hawks sighs and looks away, “she’s actually 32..”

Mirko stays quiet.

“And she has a kid.”

“Hawks, what the fuck.” Mirko says breathlessly, staring at the people crossing the street.

“And she had some type of abusive relationship before she met me.”

“gyad dayum, hawks that’s probably why she’s a little iffy, you numb nut..”

“Her son called me that too.”

Mirko gasps, “you met her son??”

The two of them are quite, hawks is a little glad he was able to let this off of his chest.

“And what did you say to her…cause I’m assuming you fought earlier today since you…’left her’”. She says the last part with quotations.

“I said I was done…” hawks looks away ashamed, regret filling his body.

He’s really liked you, would you forgive him for such a moment of weakness?

…would Fumikage forgive that…?

“Hawks-what are you doing man, get it together, you lost some traumatized milf- you know how many people want that?!”

“A lot?”

Mirko shoots up her hands, “yes- a lot of people!”

Mirko sighs, “I think you fumbled man…”

And hawks just stares at the ground, maybe he should apologize to you- no, nope hawks is not going to face you.

Truthfully he doesn’t like dealing with things he doesn’t have to deal with.

he still has your blanket.

Smells like you too.

“Hawks..”

“Mirko.”

Mirko pulls his ear, “Your ears are red”

“What should I do? I don’t really wanna talk to her..” hawks looks back up at Mirko.

“How olds her kid?”

“16.”

Mirko raises her voice, “Six-“ then she sighs, “why am I even surprised.”

“He goes to U.A. too”

Mirkos eyes light up, “that’s great, just wait til the sports festival and make him your sidekick!”

Hawks nods in agreement.

“Now I have to go on patrol” he throws the empty can towards Mirko.

Hawks then flies up towards the skys, thinking of you and Fumikage.

How he could possibly fix this.

well at least he has Mirko to guide him…?

TAG LIST: comment to be tagged😘😘

@lost-in-horrorland @boopjuice @validveenus @qardasngan @arminsarlerts @star-the-rabid-dog @bunni-teeth81 @lightsgore @portgasdbruh @camejlo-35 @marsbars09 @tharae514 @yoongiwantsme @kimahrii

everyone I see yall comment it lowkey makes my day better….DADDY TONY LOVES YOU GUYS.

[imaybe5tupid]

Falin and Faren (father)

As much as we the audience love her, to strangers, (and especially close-minded, superstitious townies like the people in her village), Falin probably came off as a creepy and unsettling horror movie villainous child (for traditional “reasons” like dogs attacking her or being quiet but also terrible bigoted reasons, again…like in actual horror movies…)

Also, in the comic extras, it’s only stated that the dogs didn’t respect her, but I think her story hits harder if they were actually afraid of/unsettled by her because they could sense her magic/affinity with ghosts (like how dogs in horror movies can detect “evil”/ghosts/supernatural etc.) . Their dad was careful and attentive enough to go get professional advice from the city about her magic, I highly doubt he would have just ignored how the dogs treated her, especially since hunting with dogs (and probably training dogs) was his like One Hobby that sticks so much in Laios’ mind. Just one of the eventually numerous indisputable signs that her place is not there in the village. It’s always interesting that Laios is the one who hated his hometown so much, but even being bullied, there was a place for him there if he was willing to play that part. For Falin, who still wants to go visit home after everything, there wasn’t even that.

more rambling and hcs under the cut

I also hc her as trans, and that Touden papa was actually good about this (as much as he has the tools to be), but for a variety of reasons he ultimately wasn’t able (like literally not socially capable and also politically its a difficult situation) to rein in the townsfolk about their bigoted treatment of her, just like with how they viewed her magic 😔 And I think he would have had to be a completely different person to even be remotely capable of doing that effectively, it was just never in the cards for them to all have lived happily there. Him paying for Laios and Falin to go study away from home was ultimately the best solution, and a huge indulgence in regards to Laios bc he really didn’t “need” to go like Falin did. I really like there being this element of tragedy/dramatic irony in how Laios thinks of him, when in reality he was trying in his own way, imperfectly of course, but naturally the outcome still wasn’t good. Just like real life parents 😔 Laios was the kid he Needed (son and heir) in the town, but Falin (beloved daughter who he sees as his only kindred spirit in the town) was the one he Wanted with him. Since I think of them as having very similar unreadable, quiet personalities that come off as creepy/intimidating to strangers or people who don’t know them (eg. how Laios or Marcille struggle to understand Falin sometimes, I think Laios and Touden mama were never able to feel connected to him). Falin understood him and he understood her 😔😔😔

[robiinurheart33]

Soap likes it when they’re alone.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s fun when 141 are all together, the four of them kicking ass on a mission. But when it’s just two of them on a mission, it just feels.. different. Like he has Ghost all to himself. They work wonderfully together as a duo, which is probably why Price never separates them. Also probably because Gaz is his favourite, that prick. (He misses them.)

They’re currently on a stakeout, and Soap was supposed to be asleep 2 hours ago.

He’s sitting across from Ghost, dressed in his sleepwear which was a sweater and old sleeping shorts he used to wear back in secondary school. Ghost was wearing a large hoodie, some sweatpants and the mandatory balaclava. They were both sitting in front of two windows next to each other, the wooden blinds pushed open and moonlight illuminating them both. The cooling air seeps into the room, and soap breathes in deeply. He glances down towards his journal, a finger stuck between the pages, the other hand twirling the pen around. It’s quiet.

His journal is far from neat, pages sticking out waywardly and the leather ripping off from one side of the cover. Soap resists the urge to pick at it. It’s filled with notes from missions, sketches of his loved ones. Mostly sceneries of places he’s stationed at.

He looks up at Ghost staring out of the window. Soap turns his head back out the window, wondering what Ghost was specifically looking at, what he was thinking at the moment, whether he would scold soap if he said he wanted to slip out to buy some supper because he’s hungry. Soap flips back open his journal, and can feel ghost attuned to his actions, even if he wasn’t currently looking at him. Soap likes him for that. He pays attention. Soap wants to return the favour. He wants to know his ins and outs, wants to pay attention. He’s always been an attention-seeking child, which meant that most adults and classmates would ignore him. Endless nights of young dumb teenage John Mactavish sobbing into his pillow about insecurities, his future and the people around him. The things he used to do for attention, each one more drastic than the last. He can’t count the amount of times his Ma had to bail him out, the amount of stress he caused her, his dear Ma.

He likes the natural attention the army brings him, big brute having the green light to legally kill people for a living. It was liberating for a while, but eventually that too died out. At the not-so ripe age of 30-whatever, Soap learns to savour the portions of attention and praise he’s delivered, especially when he joined 141. Maybe in another universe he would be just a little easier to love, little easier to endure. It’s not something he really dwells on nowadays (lie), but he would have preferred somebody be actually interested, not just for the sake of taming him.

Soap looks back on the half-filled page of his journal, clicking open his ballpoint pen, and starts to sketch Ghost. He’s a pretty good subject, not really needing to focus a lot on anatomy since most of his face is covered anyways. He’s familiar with the strokes. He eventually gets lost in it, thoughts fading away and autopilot coming to take over the wheel, the skktch of pen on paper is repetitive and soothing to his ears. It’s the only sound between them now, the crickets and wind opting to stay out of their safe little bubble.

So when Soap looks back up again and sees Ghost looking back, he physically bristles. They lock into a strange sort of stare-off, Ghost’s eyes upturned slightly in a way Johnny knows that he found it amusing. They look at each other for about a solid ten seconds, enough time for him to memorise his blond eyelashes and his eye shape, clocking in internally on how to draw him even better, tempted to just look down and sketch them as fast as possible, so he wouldn’t forget. Ever.

“…Wha’?” Johnny’s fine with breaking first.

“You’re looking at me.”

“Astute observation, LT. Is it still night time?”

“Wha ‘ave you got for us?”

Soap covers his journal in a sort of bashful kind of way, feeling like a schoolgirl covering her diary.

“Didn’t know you got yourself a little diary.”

Soap tsks. “It’s a journal.”

“Right.” An indignant huff.

“Am’ no lying!” Soap feels heat rush to his cheeks, strangely defensive of his pride in front of his lieutenant.

“Never said you were. Drawin’ me now?” His manc accent was suddenly getting very annoying. Ghost’s eyes skirt down to his hands covering the pages, and suddenly Johnny is very aware of the skin wrapped around the muscles of his hands, down to the bone. He feels the dirt under his fingernails, the ink smudged against his fingertips and palm. He wants to turn his hands in and out, inspecting them himself to see if they’re worthy of being looked at by Ghost. Acutely aware of the sheer pressure, the weight of ghost’s attention on him, his skin gets all prickly and he wants to hide.

Is he doing that on purpose?

“Yer a good subject, never movin like a statue. It’s good for practicing my still life.” Soap’s ring finger twitches, and he knows he’s been given away.

Ghost’s eyes glint in the moonlight. His eyes are almond shaped, bigger than most. His pupils are dilated, dirt brown, like the whisky he likes to choke down. His eyelashes are long, so blonde they’re almost white. they shine so brightly soap wants to reach over and close them, just to calm his poor heart a bit. Soap wants to jab his pen into his eye. Soap knows how many strokes it takes to draw Simon’s eyes.

“…. At least get my good side, Sargent.”

“Full o’ shite, you.” he chuckles, the spell breaking as soap rests his knee up on the table and placing his journal against it. It would be a little harder to sketch ghost now, but it’ll be a cold day in hell if Ghost ever sees what he does with his journal. (Would probably be more inclined to call it a diary, old fuck.) Although, he can’t help but admit that it’s a beautiful night in this particular day. It doesn’t count that Ghost and Soap’s legs are in between each other’s under the table, just short of touching each other. It doesn’t count that Johnny pointedly ignores the way that Ghost is still looking at him from the corner of his eye. It doesn’t count that Simon allows Johnny to draw him out when he would break the neck of anyone even trying to look into his eyes too deeply.

It doesn’t count that here, in their little fake apartment with one bed, sniper gun concealed under the window, two toothbrushes side by side in a cup in the bathroom, that they allow themselves to be Simon and Johnny.

They fall back into comfortable silence, Johnny 2 hours and 30 minutes over his allotted time to sleep.

Ghost’s pov

[narcjsistx]

Can i request something about Umemiya Hajime?

Was honestly thinking about scenarios of him secretly dating a timid and studious reader who studies in an all girls school and they never expected she'd fall in love with the leader of Bofurin, their personalities are huge opposite but i think that dynamic would be adorable.

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— You are you

Sitting on a park bench, the sun caresses my skin with its first spring warmth. I removed my school jacket earlier, leaving it folded next to me, and I enjoy the light breeze that passes through my blouse, while the sleeves are rolled up just above the elbows. I observe the people passing by, the familiar faces of those who live in this small town. I see them leading their lives, immersed in the usual monotony: the elderly lady walking her dog, the owner of the bar arranging the tables outside, the children racing with their bicycles on the streets still damp from the morning rain

It amazes me how almost surreal the quiet has become since the Bofurin students started helping this place. Umemiya often brags about his boys, and it always makes me laugh a little that he talks about them as if he were a father

Suddenly, I hear a voice calling me in the distance. I turn around and, in an instant, Umemiya's face is inches from mine. His presence takes me by surprise, but immediately makes me smile. His face is radiant, as always, full of that swagger that makes him unique "Y/n Chan!" in his hand he waves two bags from the local bakery, full of sweets that they distribute for free only to Bofurin students "Look what I brought!" he exclaims, with the enthusiasm of a child who has just won a prize. He's so different from me, so self-centered and extroverted. While I prefer the tranquility of moments like this, he always seems to live to the fullest, as if every day is a new adventure. But that's exactly what I love about him, even though our lives are so different

While I wouldn't even know what pose to throw a punch, he is the commander of the Bofurin, also called the strongest guy in the whole city

"What did you get this time?" I ask seeing the two bags, which give off a sweet smell of bread "I think they are donuts and some desserts with cream. Maybe even some sandwiches" he says opening the first bag, which is full of delicacies. Here it is normal to give anything to Furin students, especially to Ume. Sometimes I even feel guilty about eating what he receives, because I know it's not directed at me "Here, this looks delicious" he says, passing me a sandwich with cream and strawberries, which although I would like to avoid out of courtesy, I accept because I'm hungry. I give the sandwich a bite, which is full of cream. Some of it gets on my nose, but as soon as the guy notices it he removes it with his finger. I smile at him to thank him with my cheeks filled with dessert, while he wipes his finger on a handkerchief "Be slow, otherwise it could hurt your stomach afterwards"

At a certain point, however, something catches my attention. In passing, I notice some female figures in the distance, barely distinguishable among the trees in the park. They seem to be watching us, but they are far enough away that it is difficult to understand who they are. I squint, trying to focus, but the girls remain indistinct, like blurry shadows amid the spring light

"Do you know them?" Ume asks noticing what I'm looking at "I don't know. They're too far away to see clearly..." I say biting another piece from the sandwich. I try not to give it too much thought, but I can't help but wonder who they might be and why they're watching us. Maybe it's just my impression, or maybe they're simply curious, attracted by Umemiya's contagious energy, which always manages to attract attention without even realizing it. Also, he's famous here, so they could probably be looking at him rather than me

I look away and focus on him again. His laughter brings me back to the present, to the moment we are living in. I decide not to worry too much, to let go of that fleeting thought. While we are still sitting on the bench, intent on chatting and enjoying the desserts, I notice out of the corner of my eye that the figures in the distance are getting closer. As they get closer, I can distinguish them better: there are five girls, and my blood immediately runs cold. I recognize them. They are all classmates in the same class as me

My heart starts to beat faster, and that feeling of tranquility I had just experienced vanishes in an instant. I hadn't recognized them from afar because they were wearing normal clothes, different from our usual school uniforms. Seeing them like this, outside of the school environment, caught me off guard. I don't know why they are coming towards us, but I suddenly feel completely exposed. My shy side emerges forcefully. I feel small, vulnerable, as if every single flaw is visible to their eyes. I never spoke to any of them at school, and now the idea of having to interact with them in this context terrifies me. Umemiya is here next to me, but her presence, instead of reassuring me, makes me feel even more embarrassed. I don't want them to see it, I don't want them to think that we are... something, because it would make him look bad being with me, who am his complete opposite. Yet, he doesn't seem the least bit disturbed by their presence, continuing to smile and talk as if nothing had happened

I would like to run away, escape that embarrassing encounter, but I can't move. The girls get closer and closer, and I stiffen, looking down. I feel my cheeks burning with shame. I don't know what to say, I don't know how to behave. I wish I could disappear, become invisible. There is nothing more difficult for me than dealing with social situations like this, where the judgment of others seems to weigh like a boulder

When they are finally in front of us, one of them greets us with a smile "Y/s? Is that really you?" a girl asks, covering her mouth in surprise. Umemiya, on the other hand, welcomes them with his usual confidence, and I can't help but admire him, even if, at this moment, I would just like to be somewhere else, far from here

They're all smiling, and before I can even say anything, they start peppering me with questions "What are you doing here?" "Did you go out together?" "How long have you been seeing each other?" "But is it Umemiya from Bofurin?" "What are you two doing together?" they ask in chorus, with a curiosity that makes me feel even more embarrassed. My heart is pounding, and my cheeks are burning with shame. I don't know how to answer, I don't even know if I should answer. The words catch in my throat as I desperately try to find something to say that doesn't sound stupid or inappropriate. Umemiya, at my side, remains silent, observing the scene with a calm that I cannot understand

He's usually so bold and talkative, but now he seems to have decided to stay on the sidelines. The girls keep talking to me, making assumptions, laughing among themselves, and I feel smaller and smaller. Their every word is a blow to my self-esteem, every laugh a reminder that I am not like them, so confident and comfortable in every situation. I can't look them in the eyes, I keep my gaze down, trying to hide my nervousness. I wish I could dissolve

"Girls, girls, girls!" the boy finally intervenes, shifting attention to him "Are you friends whit my girlfriend?" he asks with a nonchalance that I finally recognize. Time seems to stop for an instant. The girls stare at him in disbelief, their eyes wide and their mouths slightly open. Their buzz stops, replaced by a silence full of amazement. I remain motionless, completely paralyzed. My heart beats even faster, and I feel the heat rising to my cheeks

The girls exchange quick glances, obviously shocked by the revelation. None of them seem to know how to react. For a moment, everything I had feared materializes before my eyes: their judgment, their surprise, their invasive curiosity

Finally, one of the girls breaks the silence with a nervous giggle, trying to mask her shock. "We never expected this!" she exclaims, while the others nod, still surprised "Yes, well, not for something against Y/s, absolutely! It's strange just seeing her with..." says another girl, and she doesn't finish the sentence but it's implied that she means Umemiya. A few other girls in the group nod. I can't say anything, but I feel the warmth of Umemiya's hand touching mine, a reassuring gesture that makes me understand that I'm not alone. The girls, after a few more confused comments, seem to understand that they won't get any more information from us, and slowly begin to say goodbye, still with that incredulous expression on their faces

When they finally leave, breathing a sigh of relief, I turn to Umemiya. He smiles at me, with that smile of his that always manages to reassure me, and I, despite everything, manage to smile back to my lover. Even if, hidden behind that smile of his, he's absolutely understood my discomfort. Ume stands up and holds out his hand to help me do the same "Come on, I'll walk you home" he says in that reassuring tone of voice I know so well

We walk side by side along the park path, and the tension I had tried to hide begins to melt. But as we walk away from the bench, my thoughts return to what just happened. I can't help but feel like I've lived one of my worst nightmares. Since Umemiya and I have been together, for almost a year now, we have always decided to keep our relationship private. Not for lack of feeling or commitment, but simply because neither of us likes gossip. And more importantly, we wanted to prevent his enemies from targeting me to harm him. I have always known that Umemiya's life is not without risk, and his reputation, along with the people around him, are often balanced on a thin thread

Yet, today, all this has been put to the test. As I walk beside him, I wonder if, with that brief encounter, we have ruined everything we have tried to protect for so long. The girls in our class know about us now, and I can't stop thinking about what would happen if word got out. What if some of Umemiya's enemies found out? What if my presence in his life became a weapon against him?. I feel guilty, as if I had betrayed our promise of confidentiality. Maybe if I hadn't been so embarrassed, if I had been more confident, Umemiya wouldn't have felt the need to step in and openly declare our relationship

I turn to him, trying to read his thoughts, but his face is serene, as if none of this bothers him "Are you sure you're okay, honey?" he asks with a reassuring smile, as if he sensed my anxiety. Even though I try to hide it, I know that something has changed, and I can't help but worry "This afternoon I would have expected it to be different" I say keeping my gaze lowered. He thinks about it for a few moments, before putting a hand on my shoulder to squeeze our hips together "Do you seriously care about those girls? I mean, I wouldn't give them as much weight as you are doing" he says rolling his eyes, trying to keep things light. I sigh, playing with the sleeves of the uniform jacket that I put back on in the meantime "It's just that I'm sorry for having forced you to make things public when we had decided to keep it private..." I say a little uncertain

Hearing my words, Umemiya burst out laughing. I'm surprised by his behavior and for a second I have the idea that he's laughing to keep from crying "Are you really worried about such a tiny thing? I thought you were worried because those are your bullies or something..." he says continuing to laugh. I raise an eyebrow, confused "My thing is no small matter! I broke our promise and let you down!" I say, clenching my fists, but the boy stops and lowers himself to my height "You could never disappoint me, or at least not for such a tiny thing. And then, if we've been together for so long, it would have happened sooner or later, right?" he says, running a hand through my hair. I purse my lips to try not to seem sorry since he doesn't want to see me like this, but I can't: inside I really feel like I made a mistake, that the blame for this is exclusively mine

"Y/n, really, don't get paranoid about things like that. Yes, we agreed to keep it private, but what does it matter now? You think I'm so weak that I can't protect you if something happened, do you really underestimate me like that?" he says jokingly for the last few sentences. I giggle at his words, feeling a little less guilty "Y/n, you are you. You could never willingly do something to me to annoy me. It's not a trait of your character to be mean" he says caressing my cheek, placing a kiss on my forehead. I sigh, deciding that maybe today I can let go and completely trust what he says

It's that despite being so different, we are linked by something that I didn't think I would create so well. If anything ever happens, we'll just handle it

[babiebom]

Hi :3 Can I request???? Sabation (sdv) x pregnant fem wife reader headcanons

A/N: this is actually really cute and especially because I posted the how many kids I think they’ll have thing I can kinda go into detail for each kid. AHHHHHH one thing about me is that I’m a family oriented sim(person) and I LOVE kids. I know it’s a thing right now to hate kids but I don’t and a lot of my fics involve this and I’m ranting so I’ll end this note here lmao.

Tw:pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy complications, cursing, lmk if I should tag anything else!!

Bc:probably at least 10

Stardew Valley Masterlist

So in my other post I said that he would have either one or how many his partner wants

So I’m gonna say three because I think that’s like the average amount of kids people have

The very first pregnancy Sebastian is absolutely out of his mine

“Don’t touch my wife” “be careful she’s pregnant” “she can’t have that it’s not good for her or the baby”

To be honest I think you being pregnant would cause him to be more outspoken

Like usually he doesn’t say anything unless he has to speak up because he’s sorta antisocial(I don’t think he’s shy, he’s quiet because he wants to be)

But now he’s always saying something to someone.

He is literally just out of his mind with worry and he has to keep you and the baby safe

STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE❗️❗️❗️🗣️🗣️

If it’s a particularly hard pregnancy he’s even more protective

Like if your doctor says bedrest Sebastian is taking that SERIOUSLY

You are not getting out of that bed unless you have to piss or shit nothing else.

He is so lucky to have a stay at home job, and even if you take time off because of the pregnancy he can take care of the animals.

At the birth he probably passes out while seeing your child being born

But it’s not out of disgust, it’s because his emotions are out of control.

Cries at the hospital, probably more than you do are you have to be like….Seb please calm down I get you love the baby but you’re crying all over them…….

Second child he’s more calm but is still VERY strict with you

Also since you already have a kid, the dynamic has changed.

He completely takes over anything that you were in charge of parenting wise.

Won’t let you cook for anyone

And the only thing you would be allowed to do is stuff you can do in bed

The second birth goes more smoothly, and he actually stays awake through it and is able to watch your child be born

Third pregnancy he would probably be ramped up in worry especially if you have had complications before and this being your last child

Since this would be your third time going through this I think he would be sick with worry but confident that you could take care of yourself.

During the third birth he actually has the confidence to cut the umbilical cord and would probably be excited to do so

Would probably be hesitant to have sex while you’re pregnant

Like all three pregnancies he would be like ummmmmm I don’t know about that what if I hurt you?

Will have sex if you reassure him bc I do think he might have a bit of a breeding kink and would want to.

I think first and second labors were progressed by y’all fucking

Third you both didn’t need to because your body was like yup let’s get it over with

Overall a very helpful and anxious daddy

Actually tries to make sure your kids get along

And tries to make sure that his relationship with them is good.

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Affections

Fandom: The Hobbit Ship/Pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader Trope: Unrequited love that’s requited after all Note: No idea. I probably made heavy mistakes in the mythology. Don't hesitate to point them out if need be. Warnings: Miscommunication, father-son relationship, rejection Word count: 6 282 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstareditd @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

“Legolas!”

Seeing your friend after so many years made you so happy, your eyes were watering even before you could feel his arm embracing you.

“My dear friend. I am so glad you could finally come home.”

Decades earlier, the young prince and you had learned and grown together under the watchful eye of the Mirkwood. Small ones were a rarity, but two at the same time almost never happened. Once an adult, it became clear you needed to leave the palace’s grounds and see the world for yourself. The only kin you had left was your aunt Ede, and she encouraged you to go, despite being torn upon your departure.

Now, finally, you were coming back to your place of birth, filled with new memories and new experiences. During the war, you were following the refugees, learning medicine and healing amongst them as you had for the past decade. Fortunately, this knowledge became of vital importance after the conflict and here you were, talking animatedly with the Crowned Prince, sharing adventures and stories.

“I am sure your father must not have taken kindly to that friendship.”

Legolas laughed, his long hair moving with the winds around.

“No, he did not. Gimli is a close friend of mine and I would not allow him to be treated with the disrespect my father is so easily using. — Still. Of all the people present in the Company, the only one you find to be a friend is the son of Gloin? The very last member of Thorin Oakenshield’s entourage? — I did not choose, you know. And…”

Before he could finish his sentence, you stopped your steps. The place had grown so much since you last were there. The tallest trees reached peaks you could not see anymore, cutting into the sky slices of clouds and sunshine. The hall around you felt heavier. More grounded in stone than in wood. Ravages of the Great War had reached even here, it seemed. From the stairs in front of you, a tall she-elf, with her dark auburn hair and her proud stature, was staring right. Your feet guided you to her in a hurry. Her embrace felt like a warm bath, smelling of lavender and a quiet temperance you needed in that moment. Ede was one of a kind. She was the one who had taught you the basics to healing and the plants, as well as the stars. Your mother had been a valiant soldier of the King’s army. She perished on the front of the battle of the Five Armies. Ede became a support and an ally in the pain of her loss. It made you two grow closer, especially when her brother - your father - left for the Shores after his wife died. He did not see the future in as much brightness as he used to and did not want to become a hindrance for you. It was with the certainty of meeting him again that you let him go.

“Aunt Ede, I have missed you so much. It is a genuine pleasure to see you. — As it is for me, child.”

She pushed a strand of hair back, watching you intently with those profound dark eyes of hers. Once Legolas reached you, he saluted the Royal Healer before leaving the both of you, a soft smile on his face. You spent the rest of the day walking around and rediscovering the grounds with your aunt. They had planted bigger gardens next to the Healers Quarters. A gardener had been appointed specifically for them, allowing time and space for the now withering Ede. She was growing tired more easily and, despite her appearances, was becoming more depressed by the day. Her work was never done in this place, being the sole reference for every other healer in the woods and sometimes outside of the country and into others. Everyday that passed made her long for her home in Rivendell. Her husband had gone back the year before and the separation was taking another toll on her, time only making it worse. At the first signs of dusk, she brought you to your room, next to her own. It contained a simple bed and a desk as well as two tall windows, looking out on the garden below. The bag you carried when you arrived finally found a space to rest too next to the neat sheets.

“Child, I bid you goodnight. We shall talk more in the morning. -Yes, my aunt. I wish you pleasant dreams and a restful sleep.”

She kissed your forehead, smiled and closed the door behind her. Soon you crumbled into the heavenly made bed, but could not find sleep. After all, the real reason of why you left had been kept secret from everyone. Including yourself. You were becoming more agitated with every minute passing before meeting the King. You had not left on particularly good terms with him, a show of restraint on your part, inclining you to keep quiet and move on. Nevertheless, the memory kept replaying in your mind, as you felt yourself drift into a soundless sleep.

In autumn, the leaves fell, and Legolas was in the trees. Well, one tree. The tallest at the time, a great oak with leaves reaching into the sky as if trying to touch it. The Prince loved to climbed its branches, storm or high wind was of no matter to him, wanting to admire the sky more than anything. Also, it was the only place his father would not think of searching him in. Lately he had been adamant in having his son with him at all times, protected and locked in, close to him where he could not be lost. Or killed. That oak was where you found him.

“My Prince, I am afraid your kingly father will be upset with both of us if you do not come down this instant.”

Silence. Thranduil had asked you personally to go in search of his son. Out of the two of you, you were in appearances the more mature one. Even now young adults, you could not help yourselves and hid from each of your parents whenever you could, spending most of your times observing the wood’s life. The fleeting murmurs of the trees settled, leaving a melody of singing birds behind. Soon, he came down, looking sheepish.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to cause my father’s anger towards you. — No need to apologise. I understand why you would want to hide. Yet, you can not do so forever Legolas.”

He nodded, following you back inside. His father had grown tensed and tired after his wife’s death. Her warmth was the heart of the forest and once she was gone, every winter became colder and colder. The King only grew more weary of the outsiders, leaving no choice but to close the borders to most of them. You knew him in happier times, grew with his son and should have grown attached to the Prince. Yet, in your heart, Thranduil had the only space you could allow to be filled. It had pained you to acknowledge it, more so when Legolas’ mother passed. A voice inside wanted you to reach out and to pull the pain away from him. From them both, but you could not. As well as Thranduil’s borders closed, his mind and soul did too. For the longest time, he retreated so far inside that no one could reach in. Not even his son. Your arm looped around Legolas’ shoulders, trying to comfort him however you could.

“Do not fret. He was scared to death you broke your neck. Once he sees you intact maybe he’ll calm down”

It did seem to make him chuckle at least, as he leaned into you. You felt ashamed feeling this way towards a brother’s kin. It was a torment you would not wish on anyone not even your greatest enemy. It became a soft agony and then a feeling deeply buried. Sometimes, you hoped you would find yourself looking at Legolas the same way you looked at Thranduil. It never happened and you grieved the proper relationship that would never be. It had been talked about, making a match between the two of you. The Prince could have been inclined. Your own affections lead you to say no, to the disarray of your parents and Legolas’ poor heart. He never resented you for it but you did. You resented yourself so much it blinded the young spirit you had into biding yourself to this place, when nothing new could be learned, nothing new could be seen. No new love would grow. Ede had mentioned leaving before. The idea was taking roots but Thranduil’s actions were the final push into the adventure of your life.

Upon arriving in the King’s room, you caught onto three things. The first, he was still worried sick, apparently repeatedly pacing the room with no signs of stopping soon. The second was that once he saw his son, he embraced him, where you had seen him lash out in anger at others. The third, you were sure that when his eyes landed on you, he would burn you right where you stood. He took his time, checking if his son was alright if he was injured, who’s idea was it to go out and hide like that. Once his nerves settled, he dismissed Legolas, closely watched over by two guards. As the Prince left the room, you shared a soft smile, already knowing what was bound to happen. Once he was gone, the air left the room and the reprieve you had ended right there.

“How dare you?”

Thranduil’s voice was carrying across the room. He was standing as far away as possible from you, as if trying to avoid catching a disease you had.

If only that was the reason, he would sleep better nights. Not watching the stars peak and go down every morning, growing mad with every time he saw you. He knew it was, in truth, for another set of reasons entirely. His body was betraying him. His heart ached in the most delicious ways, retreating from its hiding place. He would have thought it dead if it weren’t for you. You with your sharp mind and loud laughter. You who had a spirit all of your own. You who were the oldest friend and confident his son had. How could he feel that way for you, he never wanted to know. It would have meant accepting he nourished feelings for you. He watched you grow and become a mighty warrior and a spirited young elf. Once well in adulthood though, that was only then that he noticed you. Before that you were a shadow compared to his wife’s memory. He saw and perceived all too well your longing looks and tight smile for him only to see. It touched his otherwise dead heart. The pain of knowing that it could never be and the blossoming feelings he carried for you were growing inside of him intertwined. Now, your eyes haunted him at night, hot and feverish, lingering in his mind. He longed to be touched by you, when he knew he should not have. The remorse was ever present. What would she think of all of this? She would want him happy, cared for and content. He wanted it too. He would not yield, not crumble under your stare. He had to protect his people from disappointment in their ruler. He could not afford jeopardising his rule so. Even for your beautiful mind and gorgeous soul.

“How dare you compel my son into acting so? You and your ideas! Of course you were the one to give him such ideas about freedom and… — Your Majesty, with all due respect, I gave him what he asked of me, nothing else.”

He was livid. What he asked of you? A jealousy he had forgotten the name of, formed in his stomach, giving his wrath a fuel to keep on burning. What did he ask of you? What did you ask of him?

“How could you? You are full of yourself. Arrogant. Reckless. Do you not know the influence you have over him? How dangerous that could be?”

He could see you, bowing your head, biting your tongue. He drove the knife deeper still, wanting you to react, to do something. Anything was better than you not reacting at all. Especially to him. The cruel intentions in him a reflection of his frustrated state at seeing you and not touching you.

“Answer me!”

The scream rang through your body. Teeth clenched, you had been biting your tongue this entire time, not wanting to make this situation worse. Although, he was on the right path for it to get worse.

“Why would I? You seem to have all the answers already! About your son, about me!” You kept on going, even as he stepped closer and closer to you, domineering and hovering over you. “He needs to experience life! If you can not give him that, at least give this to his mother!” This touched a nerve, his face darkening with fury. Where he knew you were right, he wanted to make you quiet. Those truths either he was not ready to hear. “She would certainly not want her only son to go to the Shores having never touched life with his own hands. Never fighting for what he believes in, never seeing the sun high in the sky or never feeling the touch of a lover, because of you. Sire, you cannot keep him in a gilded cage like this. Either you let him go or he will escape.”

He was invading your private space now. You could not look up. You would not look up.

“How would you know how to care for a child who is not your own? — I know him better than you think.”

Better than you lingered in the air, unsaid, deeply felt. His long fingers gripped your jaw pulling your eyes along them, then his deep burgundy robe before meeting his darkened pupils. He narrowed his eyes, the very tip of his fingers were burning with the yearning of touching you. He could not give in. He would not give in.

“Do you now?”

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, in what was supposed to be a show of power. Both of you knew it was not, still thinking the other to not know about it. His teeth bit lightly into your earlobe before you could stop him. Frozen in place, you did nothing when his lips drew goosebumps down your throat. In a swift movement, he sucked a deep bruise into your skin. You cried out as he held your face in place, merciless in his grip. It was not a cry of displeasure and that surprised him. As your hand gripped the one holding your face, he searched your expression looking for a momentary lapse in judgement. Maybe something to stop him. Something to tell him this was wrong. He found nothing of the sort. He slid his fingers from your jaw to your cheeks, finding comfort into the plump and supple skin of your face, before all but tearing himself apart by kissing you. You kissed him in return, feverish and wanting. Too soon, he stopped. Disgusted with himself, he turned around, hurting like never before. His weakness was showing, all too visible to his own eyes.

“Go. Now. And never come back. — Sire…”

Your voice was but a whisper, the fluttering of your heart where his skin had met yours turning your whole body into a beating drum.

“Leave! Leave and never show your face again!”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You did not let them and left the room, closing the door as hard as you could behind you. Once in your room, everything went blank. Almost as if on drugs, mechanically, you gathered your things, warned your aunt of your departure. She did not question it. She knew of your yearning to leave and did not stop you either. Only accompanied you to the main road, wishing you farewell and a heartfelt goodbye. Legolas received a delayed goodbye, by letter. He was angry with you, but understood. You never told him about what happened and it said a lot about his forgiving nature that he did not hold that hurt against you today. She figured Thranduil might have something to do with it when the next day he asked about you. He seemed hurt beyond measure when she told him you were gone, almost surely never to return.

The first rays of the sun sneaked through the glass windows, shades and hues of red and yellows nesting into the corners of the room. After a change of clothes and a frugal breakfast, you accompanied Ede to the gardens along with her pupils, witnessing the classes she gave to elves from all backgrounds and all horizons. Midday approached and she took you aside after leaving her students.

“Child, we need to talk. — Yes, aunt Ede. What do we need to talk about?”

Her next words startled you as much as they turned your world upside down.

“I will be direct, my child. I need you to replace me, here, at the palace. I need you to become the next Royal Healer.”

*

Ede and you had carried that conversation long into the night. She was adamant that it was you who was supposed to carry on in her place. On the other hand you were less than convinced. Especially considering that she always described the task as a burden - more so in the last years. You would not negotiate with her and complained, exposed, revealed what you feared and felt unable to do. She would hear none of it. Her sole purpose here was to give her place to you, of that she was certain. Deep within her a longing of her home had taken root and she had wanted to leave for a long time. If only for her sake, you had no other choice but to do what she asked. For your own, you would have to face Thranduil when that day would come. Maybe, it was for the best. You could not stay in this place of ignorance and avoidance. A quick walk through the garden and you found yourself, face to face with Legolas, all smiles and a hint of mischief in his eyes you were worried about.

“Good morning to you. -And good morning to you, my friend.”

His smile did not falter as he proposed to accompany you through the palace, talking animatedly as usual, until finally you reached the healers quarters.

“I do have a question though. — Yes, what is it?”

As he opened his mouth to say something, he closed it again, his eyes drawn to something - or rather someone - in the room behind you. The door had been left ajar. Distinctively you could see Thranduil’s back and when he stepped aside, your aunt Ede too. Her brows were furrowing and her lips were pinched in a thin line. That could not be any good. The King on the other hand, was towering over her, rolling his eyes and pinching his nose every time she spoke as you would do with a child. That, that was intolerable. Legolas tried to stop you, his hand slipping from your arm only to be left bewildered and strangely, amused, when you stepped inside, slamming the door open.

“Your Majesty. Aunt Ede.”

You bowed your head as he observed you from head to toe. Since that night, it was the first time he was seeing you again. As you, him. A beating sound rang in your ears. His sharp eyes looked down upon you, considering your face, your lips. He stopped and turned towards Ede again.

“Your Majesty, this is… — We shall talk about it at another time. ”

She bowed and did not dare question his statement. He stepped out of the room without another word, only mildly surprised at finding his son at the door. He inherited his need to meddle in other’s affairs from his mother. It both amused him and annoyed him to no end.

* “Ede, what was that about? — Oh, nothing. Have you eaten yet? I was hoping we could eat together and talk some more about your new position?”

There was no negotiating her. Soon, she led you towards a secluded spot under a willow tree you used to hide in when you were a mere child. It’s blooming branches looked smaller now, even when surrounding both of you in its fresh shadows.

“Aunt, please tell me what this talk was about. With the King.”

Ede sighed, plugging some grapes from her bag. She stalled, settling down cheeses and bread at a luxuriously slow pace.

“Aunt… — Yes, I know. Listen, it is a matter between the King and I and… — Was it about me? — Sort of.”

You snorted loudly, startling a few birds in the tree.

“What do you mean? — It was about my replacement. He disagrees with my choice.”

That should not have stung as much as it did.

“And I told him that I would not be changing my mind anytime soon. And that you would be taking my place in three weeks time as per what was planned. — Wait… Three weeks? From now? It’s too soon, Ede.”

She shushed you with a finger against your lips, as she did when you were younger.

“No discussion, no negotiation.”

She proceeded to tell you all about the Royal Healer’s position. You were to tend to the Royal Family, anytime day or night, big or small wounds. Fondly, she recalled a time when Legolas was still small, and had fallen off of a tree, breaking his wrist. He had been restless for the long process of the cast and even more when he had to not use his arm for weeks after that. Being light of foot was not something you were born with and he had mastered it with numerous injuries and various broken bones. You recalled the infinite patience his father had to show. The prince was not as quiet and calm as he was now. She kept on with an extended list of places you were expected to go and help, as well as the palace. Indeed, she had taken it upon herself to replace the old healers in all the neighbouring villages. Most of them had been replaced, yet there was still work to do and new persons to train. At the first lights descending in the sky, she excused herself, exhausted that she was. She kissed your temple and walked away.

Your room felt smaller once you reached its bed. The walls seemed to be getting closer with each moment and soon, you could not stand it any longer. The night had just settled, the first stars showing above. Without much thinking, your feet wandered around the place, finding bushes and crannies, the deep river you knew. Several times, you passed by the willow you had eaten under earlier that day. Somehow, it drove you to its shelter, the rays of the moon shining through the leaves, giving the place an eerie and melancholic air.

Carefully you immersed yourself in this small reprieve of the world.

What you did not know was that you were not alone, sneaking around at night, unable to sleep.

* Once done with the argument, Thranduil had left the infirmary in a hurry, not wanting to dwell in a room where you were. Inadequacy was not something he was fond of feeling. Legolas followed him back to his chambers. He could sense his son’s amusement from behind him. When he turned around, stepping into his bedroom, the very same son had the audacity to laugh wholeheartedly.

“You do remember you owe me allegiance, even as my son and heir.”

The elf struggled to gain back his composure and nod. Finally he had come to his senses.

“Yes, Father. Although I choose to find our relationship into its more domestic issues than its governmental ones.”

Or not.

“Legolas, I swear on your mother’s grave if you do not explain why you are mocking me I will send you to an early retirement deep in the forest with nothing but bread and water to survive, as well as the animals to keep you company.”

That made him stop. Thranduil’s threats were always outlandish. They were also never made in vain or carelessly. Legolas stepped closer to his father, leaning in as in confidence. The King’s eyebrow lifted in a show of not being impressed. From where he was sat, he could see the sparkle in his son’s eyes. The one that meant no good.

“Your affections are showing, father. — My…”

If he had not been angry to begin with, he might have been now. He thought back to that night and could not wash away the culpability creeping in. After you had left, he had spent sleepless nights, without an end to his thoughts about what he could have done worse. Never better. In fact, he had come to the conclusion that where you were concerned, things was to be left alone. A sort of status quo, left undisturbed. Nevertheless, he stayed quiet. The silence worried Legolas.

“Father, I never meant any harm. — I know.”

He couldn’t face Legolas anymore, a veil covering his vision. The King felt the weight of the past years weighing him down, sitting in that chair behind this table, his future in the eyes of his only child. How much he had wished there had been other children with her. Legolas was as perfect now as he was when he was born but he was alone. He released a heavy sigh.

“Sit.”

Legolas obeyed, fearing something worse than a stern talking to.

“Nothing is ever meant to happen between…” The name on his tongue travelled down his throat to his heart. He chocked on it. “It is not meant to be, my son. Of my own fault. No harm can come to her. Not more than the one I have already done.”

Questions began plaguing the prince’s mind, almost wondering aloud what his father could have done to deserve your absence and his longing. In a way, those questions were answered shortly after he thought them up.

“I was the one who chased her away. — You…”

Thranduil’s hand stopped him. It barely lifted in the air, before resting again.

“In a very unkind manner. The behaviour I had was… Unworthy.”

No other words were necessary for he was one to choose them precisely. His close circle knew that. That knowledge was what made his son get up and look at him, with so much disappointment in his eyes he could have made his father drown in it if he so much as wished it. Legolas did not have any will in himself to do so. Instead, he channelled this frustration and shame into his words, chosen carefully as he had been taught to, many times before.

“Did you even try to talk with her? — No. — Why?”

His tone had taken a harsh turn, startling Thranduil in his immobility. No good excuse came to mind. He had been afraid and incapable of voicing his apologises. With you gone, gone was the possibility of redemption. Now that you were here again, he could try. Legolas’ mother was still in his mind, chastising him for his actions. He had come to accept that he would never forget her. That she would remain his conscience for the years to come, the years until his disappearance from this Earth. He had known her for so long, she would always be there. Telling him when he was doing wrong too. Even if it was with the voice of their only child, now grown, looking at him with something akin to violence in his eyes.

“She is out there, thinking she has done something wrong, when you could have freed her from that burden long ago. That, father, is not an unworthy behaviour. That is the behaviour of a coward. — How dare you speak to me in such a way? I am still your King… — Not as long as you behave like this, you’re not.”

He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His words resonated against the walls and the mind of the one left behind. A deep frown settled on his forehead, erasing all traces of previous fury. A weary hand pinched his nose, narrowing his eyes at his own anger. In a careless gesture, Thranduil pushed everything off of the table before him. Papers, ink, quills… everything went flying across the room. The only thing left were his hands gripping the edges of the table, ready to throw it too. Soon, he found himself crying silent tears, trying desperately to stop them from falling. His hands were shaking, a whole body tremor going through him, as sobs escaped him. This had to stop. A knock at the door interrupted him in his misery. Quickly he composed himself and followed the council servant outside, attending absentmindedly the meeting he was supposed to preside over. Legolas’ absence thrust another surge of sadness, pure and raw, through him. His absence only making him think about yours. In this scenario, he could lose you both. He could have none of it.

Once the first rays of sunshine started disappearing behind the clouds and down the horizon line, his feet brought him to his son’s chambers. He had to at least try to make this right.

* Under the willow tree, you laid, head resting against the trunk, eyes up in the sky. Sleep would still elude you, in the most peaceful ways this time. The clouds were moving with the winds, hiding and showing the numerous constellations up above. A rustling of leaves brought you back to solid ground quickly. Someone had found your hiding place, of all the places in the palace.

“Legolas? What are you doing here?”

The shadow did not answer, only advanced and stepped in the moonlight. It was indeed Legolas, but his eyes were different. A solemn toll had taken hold upon them and it was strange, if not completely out-worldly to watch him be this serious.

“I fear, the same as you. I could not sleep. — How did you find me?”

He did not answer right away, throwing a glance behind him before looking back at you.

“I followed you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. His steps had gotten more silent with the years, apparently. From your room to this place, you had not heard him once, not even in the gravel or the grass.

“Listen, I am here…” He hesitated a moment. “I did not meant to follow you. It was the only way. The most opportune one. There are things you need to talk about. I thought that if I was the first to show, you would feel less incline in running. — The first to show?” Fear ran through you. “What have you done Legolas? — I talked with my father.” Something sank within you. “About you.”

Your voice died in your throat. “I never meant to overstep my position, as your friend. I was worried about what he could have done to warrant such guilty actions from him. — What actions? Wait. Did he tell you…?”

Thranduil’s voice interrupted you both. His tall stature loomed over, albeit hunching over to pass through the leaves and come to you.

“Legolas, would you leave us for a moment, please.”

The gentleness in his tone surprised you. It seemed it was a normal occurrence for the Prince who reached and squeezed your arm reassuringly before leaving with a bow of his head.

“I believe we have much to talk about.”

Neither of you said another word, before he stepped forward and sat down next to you. It felt awkward to see your King in such an informal setting. You could see the discomfort it brought him to be this close to you. You were about to get up and go, when his hand pinned yours to the space between the two of you. Stunned, you looked at him straight on. He avoided your gaze at all costs, not taking the risk to say hurtful things again, out of spite. Out of fear.

“My rank demands an exemplary behaviour and it seems I have failed in that task.”

Your breath caught in your throat, you kept staring at his profile, making it hard for him to keep going. Through greeted teeth he added more words you never thought you would hear from him.

“My actions towards you were nothing short of ungraceful and puerile. You have my deepest apologies.”

Finally, he looked at you, tall and head held high. That was as far as he would go. Legolas might have had a hand in that forsaken apology. It was a needed humiliation, if he was to keep you in his court. With him. Near him.

“Sire, you have my sincerest thanks for this. There was no need for you to do so and you demonstrated a great kindness by this gesture.”

His face relaxed slightly, his jaw unclenching. His hand was still on yours. The feeling erupting from that meeting left you dizzy and energised at the same time.

“Was that all, Sire?”

Thranduil could see the hope on your face. Brows pulled down, frowning around your beautiful haunting eyes, lips pinched in a thin line. What took him over he would never know, for he did not recognise himself behaving like this.

“No. The kingdom is deeply grateful to have you back here with us. This land deserves excellency and perfection. That is why I can be demanding of my people. As well as of you.”

His hand gripped yours. You did not stop him from doing so, letting him finish his thoughts. He seemed to be needing it as much as you. A prickling in your eyes made you withdraw your hand for a moment to wipe it out. Your fingertips erased the tears down your cheeks, while your tongue felt as a leaded weight in your mouth.

“I understand.”

Only then did you put your hand over his, squeezing lightly. A sharp hope ran through him, a knife of helplessness felt deep in his bones. He did not want to recognise the feelings growing inside of him. He knew what they were anyhow.

“Thank you.”

Words ran away in the night. Your eyes found the sky again, the stars and the moon above lighting your way in the dark. He was staring. You could feel it. You kept on looking away, biting your lips and swallowing your tears down your throat. If this was what you could get, then you would take it. At least he was sorry. Your feelings, you could deal with on your own. Thranduil’s stare was boring into you with little care for his heartbeat accelerating. Here he was, sitting in the grass, in the middle of the night, watching someone he thought he had lost. Something to smile about, finally, he thought. He was committing to memory the shape of your nose. The curve of your chin. The apple of your cheeks, the soft trace of your eyebrows. The stubbornness and intelligence hiding in your eyes. As he did back when, his hand slipped down your cheek, bringing you to meet his eyes. He settled in your throat, slender fingers finding their place under your jaw. Half hooded eyes and a sharp inhale from your mouth were all it took for him to meet your lips. Slowly, both his hands came to cradle your face.

Then, you were the one to pull away. He frowned, trying to meet your eyes. You wouldn’t. Cradling his hand against your cheek, you pushed it away. Deep within, the restlessness of your heart had not gone quiet with his words. Only louder, the beating in your chest trashing around, begging to be freed.

“My lord, I… I understand. I really do understand what is at stake, here.”

You met his eyes, full of something you never thought you’d see again. Worry.

“Nonetheless, I want more.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to stop you. You stopped him first, the palm of your hand quietly overtaking his senses, when meeting with his face.

“This. What is happening here, I will not have it hidden away. I cannot. Not after this long. I…” You licked your lips, anxious at his reaction. “I belong to you. In whatever shape or form. But, if you give me this…” The skin of your thumb caressed down, meeting his lips. He had stopped moving. “There will be no going back. All out of the shadows. And, if you break my heart a second time, I will not be coming back.”

For someone with a patient talent for words, the King was left speechless. No proper sentence could carry his meaning. Only gestures, actions and demonstrations of his affection and commitment could. So he did. For the first time with you, he became hesitant, his mouth shaping itself around your throat, your open neck bathed in the moonlight. He clung onto your waist as one would a lifeline, your hands threading through his hair when he kissed you. His hunger and thirst for you was unmatched. Unparalleled. He had forgotten what that felt like.

That night, as many others afterwards, you found yourselves bound together, under the willow.